Eyes Of The Wolf
by MsAlleyCat
Summary: This is an account of Ashila Lavellan, soon to be Herald, who will become The Inquisitor. A cast out of her clan due to 'abnormalities', she must struggle with her new role as 'Savior', while dealing with her own demons as well as facing the real ones, and find some way to make her team work together to bring down "A God". All very challenging and quite ridiculous
1. Prologue: Veiled Beginings

_Prologue: Veiled Beginnings _

_As consciousness returned, the feeling of the cold stone beneath her and the searing headache assaulting her mind was the indication that she was –miraculously- alive. Hands stinging from the many cuts she pushed herself into a kneeling position, muscles screaming from the abuse. In her mouth a mix of dirt and blood clung to her tongue, and she was happy enough to spit the vile mixture out as her vision became sharper._

_What she saw had her almost praying to Dirthamen to guard her locked heart, afraid that she had not regained any form of sense.. A world of darkness, full of stone adrift in the space is already terrifying enough, the thick mist and silent shades watching ones every movement. Her hand, the left one, screamed in pain again. Hissing, she looked down expecting to see broken skin, blood, and bone. The sneer dropped from her face, the look of shock that replaced it aglow from the eerie light bursting forth from her palm. _

_A noise from the darkness had her head jerking up, eyes alert and searching. Her eyes connected with pairs of glowing yellow orbs, at least ten sets! Body taught, she backed up slowly in a crawl her, ebony hair a wild mess in front of her eyes. A cold sweat broke out on her brow, breathing shallow as she lifted herself up against a twisted rock, eyes still glued on the ones that haunted her._

_Another voice reached out through the emptiness, reaching her ears as unintelligible garble. She turned to the source high above her, lifting her untroubled hand to shield her eyes from the illuminated being that stood at the peak of stone steps. The fears in the dark abated slightly, cast out by the intense brilliance of this being, and all thought was dispersed, save for the intense need to reach this person._

_So with heavy feet, she fought against the pain in her body with each step, climbing the stone steps to reach the plateau, unafraid of the eyes that followed slowly for the moment._

_Her luck was short lived, for the creatures of shadow seemed to realize her intended destination, and began to follow at a quickened pace. The savage snarling caught her attention. She pulled her eyes from the glorious sight, looking blow into the blackness- and felt her stomach drop. Stalking her were the sickly glowing eyes, their owners a mangled mess of rotting flesh and fur and teeth, hungry and bared in her direction. Wolves mad with hunger, hounding her._

_She broke out into a frantic sprint, heart in her throat as she lept and climbed over rocks, cutting her hands further on their sharp edges. The vivid being knelt forward, reaching out to her with all it's might, calling to her in words she could not comprehend. The wolves were almost upon her, mouths salivating at the meal almost within their sharp teeth. A clawed paw tore at the side of her thigh, earning a scream. _

_Their prey threw herself upon the rocks, hand outstretched to the one inches from her fingertips. Their fingertips barely touched as the demons of her dreams bounded to her, and then the light bursted forth, overflowing to encompass her and banish the ones that haunted her._

_Before blackness took her, she saw the face of her savior, a sad smile upon her face_


	2. Chapter 1: The Mark

Hello again, friends, lurkers and othersorts! Near one in the morning where I am but I could not wait to post Chapter 1! For regular chapters I hope to post at least once a week, so that I have time to write, edit, and get into any other shenanigans I might find.

First few chapters are a little dull to start, but I believe that after Chapter 5 we will start to pick up in some action! Remember to rate/review/ and (or) follow of you like my work! Comments or suggestions are always appreciated!

(I do not own Dragon Age: Inquisition, but I like to think I have claim to Ashila)

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><p>Chapter One: The Mark<p>

Cassandra could not look away.

Oh she wished she could; turn away and pretend like the disaster never happened, there was no doubt about that. But her eyes could not- _would not_ turn away from the green thundering clouds above her, the tear in the world. Over the ruins where the one great Temple of Sacred Ashes stood, pulsed The Breach like a terrible heartbeat, every moment spewing out demons that assaulted her still stricken troops in continuous waves. No time to get over the shock, and no time to grieve.

How long had it been, A few hours at most? The sun had been shining then, reflecting off the untouched snow on the mountains with such lustre that if you looked for too long your eyes would be blinded. Mages and templars had been walking single file parallel from each other towards the temple, a moment in the war where, for once, blades had not been drawn and the air did not hum with magic. The town of Haven, lying at the base of the mountain, had been brimming with fragile hope, the peoples hearts growing lighter at the thought of their Holy Leader mediating a possible solution to the madness that had gripped the nations.

Divine Justinia had left Cassandra and Leliana in Haven with a small smile, promising to not return until peace was assured. Cassandra had watched her leave, knowing in her heart that when Justinia had returned, their true goals would be set in motion, for the whole world was waiting on baited breath to hear the news from this small conclave. She had wanted to go with her, but Justinia had forbade it, saying the presence of the Left and Right Hands would only spark doubt, so to appease her, she stayed.

But then an explosion with a force that shattered the glass on windows, sent the horses into a terrible frenzy, and brought the believers to their knees came upon them. It had obliterated the Temple, and any who were within. Cassandra remembered how she rushed out of the small cabin she had been reading in, staring in horror as the explosion of brilliant green spiraled up into the heavens. Like a blade it cut the sky, a wound that made the skies grow dark and thunderous, spewing from it's opening demons of all kinds.

Fingers biting the palm of her hand in a fierce fist, Cassandra bowed her head to it, closing her eyes as she battled the wave of emotions that warred within her.

Any chance of peace, any hope of a solution to the civil war had been riding on this meeting between the two factions counseled by The Divine. Peace could have been possible still if she could have been there, if she had simply done her duty as the Right Hand, perhaps The Divine could have been…

The Breach pulsed again, the force of it shaking the glass of the house. Outside the villagers wailed and cowered, their fear radiating off them in waves. Cassandra wrangled in her emotions- save for one.

She opened her eyes, glaring in controlled rage at the tear that hung over the destroyed Temple, flashing as if to mock her. She pushed away from the window, standing erect with head held high and staring forward. Amidst the bustle of her people in the small church, she stood stoically, vowing in her heart to find the one responsible for this destruction, for the lives, and bring them to whatever justice she saw fit.

"Lady Seeker."

She continued to stare into the rift, but nodded to acknowledge her subordinate.

"Report."

"There have been sightings of rifts such as this one, all over Thedas. From Ferelden to Orlais, it's-" the scout drew a shaky breath, "They're saying it is the end of times, Mi'lady."

Cassandra could not help but scoff, no doubt the Nobles were the ones parroting this idea of the end of days. She raised her hand, opening it so that the scout could place his reports in her palm, dismissing the scout so that she may read the documents, hoping that they would give her something to go on.

_Nothing but panic and useless words_, she thought with disdain, disappointed that there was no mention of their unusual prisoner that lay unconscious in the cell below them. Lilianna _must _have some information-

"Cassandra, your face has become a permanent scowl I see."

Speak of the Nightingale.

Cassandra turned, nodding to the Left Hand and waving the reports in an aggravated gesture.

"You would think that a global disaster would band the people together to find a solution, instead all we have is panic and useless questions to which there is no answers." She growled, slamming the papers on the table beside her.

"This would serve better as kindling!"

At this Leliana chucked softly, Cassandra was the more passionate of the two, seeking action in the instant rather than waiting for details. Leliana, however, preferred to know the entire story before acting, to watch and wait for the perfect opportunity. Together they were formidable, a perfect duo. Leliana put a hand on Cassandra's shoulder, a small but calming gesture for the warrior.

I may have some information on our prisoner, not much, but it is better than what we have."

Cassandra's eyes lit up instantly.

"Well? Tell me!" she snapped, desire to take action making her get ahead of herself.

"Be calm, Cassandra," Leliana chided, nodding her head for Cassandra to follow her to the back of the Church, towards the steps that lead to the dungeon.

"You are right," Cassandra breathed, silently reprimanding herself for getting so hotheaded. Running her hand through her hair, she began walking in step with her friend.

"What do we know about the elf?"

"Upon gathering all accounts from the soldiers who were first on the scene, the elf was seen stepping out of the Fade, appearing to be in a disoriented state,"

Leliana began; nodding to the soldier that opened the door for the two and began to descend down the steps.

"It was reported by all the soldiers that a woman bathed in intense light was seen behind the elf, appearing to have pushed her back into our world."

"A woman?" Cassandra asked, her shock causing Leliana to turn as she reached the floor.

Leliana's face was stoic, but her eyes held the same questions that Cassandra had.

"Many are claiming that it was Andraste herself sending the woman through to us, for when she stepped into our world, the elf raised her hand and a great light shone from her palm, and the demons that were assaulting our troops seemed to burn away. "

Her full lips pressed in a hard line, Leliana turned and began walking, Cassandra hurriedly following after.

"What seems to make our troops further believe that she is sent by Andraste is after the demons were banished, she had begun to change right before their eyes as she collapsed.

"Changed? How?" Cassandra breathed, eyes full of disbelief, unable to accept what she was hearing.

"As they gathered her into their arms, her hair began to change, from black to pure white." Leliana stopped again, turning to look at her friend.

"I honestly do not know what to make of this, Cassandra." Leliana's nose wrinkled, "We will have

to wait till she wakes to get any more information."

Observing Cassandra's stricken face, Leliana added:

"The apostate, Solas, I believe, has been working tirelessly to discover the source of the mark upon her hand and the connection it has to The Breach, though his observations have yielded no results, he believes that she had little to no hand in the explosion at the Temple-"

"He could be lying for her, covering her involvement!" Cassandra pressed, trying to make sense of the new information.

Leliana frowned at her friends wild accusations, but she could not fully dispute the claim because, in all honesty, it could be the possibility. Her intuition, however, told her that this was not the cause, so she chose her next words carefully,

"I do not believe this is the case. If he did have some involvement with the woman and the explosion, I do not think he would have come to us so willingly to help." Cassandra glared forward, but said nothing.

"Even now he is at the forward camp with Varric trying to assist our men." Leliana added, knowing Cassandra could not refute what she said. Even though the Seeker and Varric Tethras had an obvious clashing of opinions, personalities, and literally every other thing under the sun, he still stuck around to help assist in the defenses, trying to help bring order out of the chaos.

Cassandra's head was spinning, in their darkest hour a solution might have passed out in their arms, but…

Cassandra gritted her teeth; it was also possible that this elf could be the reason behind the explosion, the deaths, and the rifts seen all over the world.

Cassandra stared hard at Leliana. There was no time to wait.

Even now the Breach was growing with each hour, they needed answers- solutions, and fast.

"We have no time to wait on principle," Cassandra seethed, pushing past Leliana, her eyes set on the wooden door yards in front of her.

"We must have answers, _now."_

~~~(In the dungeon below)~~~~

Ashila Lavellan's head was heavy, the dull throbbing of a migraine had her thoughts moving at a sluggish pace, processing the frightful dream she had just had of savage wolves and glowing women, she would soon wake up in her tent under the maple tree in the Free Marches, she would begin the days hunt, tolerate the whispers of her clan…

A sharp jolt from her left hand caused her to hiss. Overcoming the splitting pain in her head, she opened her eyes, blinking back the black spots in her vision to get a look at the room she was in. Besides the fact she was in chains (something she noted grimly) she observed the circle of soldiers around her, spears and swords pointed at her small form.

This was not her tent, nor the maple tree said tent rested under.

_Well this is one fucked up situation _she thought dryly, blowing a silver lock of hair from her eyes-

_Wait, stop. SILVER?_

Her eyes focused upon the bangs in front of her brow, the color draining from her face. The once midnight black hair she had been born with was replaced with a petrified white. A sick feeling pooled in the pit of her stomach. If her hair had indeed drained of its color, then-

Another pulse of pain emanated from her hand, causing her to inhale sharply. Ashila looked down at her small hand, reluctantly opening her fingers to gaze at her palm. A bright green light sparked out of her palm, followed by another wave of pain that left her gasping, and the men that circled her to back up in fear, their weapons quivering.

Her dream had not been a trick of the mind, she thought in horror, eyes still locked on the green light flowing from her hand.

It was all terrifyingly real.

At that moment the door to her prison busted open with a loud bang, bouncing slightly on the opposing door.

Ashila looked up sharply as the soldiers all sheathed their weapons, her face relaxing into an expressionless appearance, as she learned to do many times over the years. Her training as a rogue hunter for her people prepared her moments of capture and interrogation such as this. She stared hard at the two women that entered into the shadows of her cell. Though it was dark, she saw that one was a warrior with short black hair with an intense scowl on her face that would have made lesser men crumble, while behind her the redhead in her cowl eyed her from the shadows. Based on the entrance they had made and the way the troops regarded them, these were ladies of certain stature and respect, for the trembling that had started in many of the men had subsided when they had entered the room.

Ashila's eyes shifted back to the warrior who walked forward into the light. Their eyes met, and Ashila saw in the warrior's eyes her hesitation. Keeping her eyes locked on the other women, Ashila suppressed a smirk, for she knew exactly why the warrior faltered upon looking at her captured self.

Everyone that had ever met Ashila was always unnerved by the stark difference in her eyes. One coal black, the other an icy bluish-white. Paired with new ghost-white hair, she certainly must have looked quite a sight.

The warrior had recovered from her shock and stalked into the room, circling Ashila as a means to unnerve her. While Ashila's face remained calm and unperturbed, her eyes followed the warriors form as much as they could, her face as still as stone. She stopped behind Ashila. Unable to see her captor, Ashila watched the redhead who had come forward into the light, as the warrior leaned forward till her face was near her ear.

"Tell me why we shouldn't kill you now." She said in a soft but deadly voice.

Ashila could tell that the woman took great restraint to keep herself from lashing out at her. Something had the woman in a great rage, and she most likely believed the Ashila was the root of her problems.

The woman continued to speak as Ashila thought to herself, circling her once more.

"The conclave is destroyed. Everyone who attended is dead,"

_The conclave… _Ashila frowned, bits of memory returning to her. Yes, she was told by the Keeper of Clan Lavellan to infiltrate the conclave. A meeting between the mages and Templars that had sparked civil war or change in all of Thedas. Such an event would mean great change, either outcome starting ripple effects that could affect all, including the Dalish. She had been sent to spy on the meeting with a small group of other rogues, then report back to the Keeper, but if she was here-

"Except for _you."_

Ashila frowned.

_S__o I am the last. _She thought to herself. The warrior stood in front of Ashila, obviously waiting for some sort of explanation. Ashila instead looked past the woman's shoulder to the wall behind her, staring blankly and saying nothing. The woman, obviously displeased at Ashila's silence, reached out and roughly grabbed her left hand, pulling it up to her face, forcing her to stare at the green bursts of light the surged forth. Ashila could not help but look at it, her mask slipping to show her fear at the unknown creation in her palm.

"Explain this!" She demanded, forcing her hand down and staring hard at the elf in chains.

Ashila, of course knew nothing, save for the throbbing headache she had from the entire ordeal. A destroyed conclave, a terrible mark upon her and being the center of all this madness was starting to fray her resolve.

"I… I can't." she whispered hoarsely looking down at the mark, her voice cracking from her dry throat.

The was not the answer the warrior was looking for.

"What do you mean _you cant!" _She raged, her voice growing louder. Ashila winced, her ears flat against her head as she tried to make sense of her situation and somehow explain to the woman that she had _no fucking clue what was going on!_

"I don't know what that is, or how it got there.." she croaked, watching the woman circle around to face her.

Unable to contain her rage, the warrior grabbed Ashila by the scruff of her scarf and shook her.

"You're lying!"

This is when the redhead stepped in, coming forth from the shadows to pull the warrior away. "We _need _her, Cassandra."

The warrior, Cassandra, looked at the woman in disbelief. In this moment of clarity, Ashila was able to slightly grasp the situation.

It was all kinds of fucked up.

"Well, what now?" she murmured, looking between the two women. The redhead pulled away from Cassandra, coming forth to stand in front of Ashila. Her eyes were narrow and thoughtful as she spoke.

"Do you remember what happened? How this began?"

Ashila grimaced, remembering all too well the 'dream' she had, which was now obviously the reality.

"I… I remember running-" she remembered the wolves, and gulped, unable to shake their mad eyes that stared so hungrily at her. "Things chasing me, and then…" she frowned, looking up at the two. "A woman?"

The redhead crossed her arms, pondering her words.

"A woman?"

Ashila nodded slowly.

"She reached out to me, but then…" she bit her lip, her head pounding and unable to recall anything else. "I am sorry, but that is all I truly know, I swear." She murmured, closing her eyes to stall the pounding in her head and try to make sense of the madness she had fallen into.

Cassandra stepped over to her companion inclining her head towards the door.

"Go to the forward camp, Leliana. I'll take her to the Rift."

Leliana searched Cassandra's face for a moment, then nodded, turning on her heels then walking out of the cell.

Cassandra turned to face the elf once more, observing silently. Ashila did not know what to expect from the human, for it was only moments ago she was shaking her frantically. She heard the woman move towards her and braced herself for whatever torture she might be in store for.

Moments later she heard the clicking of a lock yielding. Looking up, she stared at Cassandra who was still watching her, shock evident on her face.

"There is something you must see," Cassandra said simply.

Ashila spoke, more softly this time, her face not hiding the confusion and apprehension she was feeling .

"What did happen?"

Many emotions passed through Cassandra's eyes- anger, pain, and confusion were the most evident. She then looked at Ashila again, regarding her with an almost soft look as she helped the elf to her feet.

"It will be easier to show you."

Making sure the elf could stand on her own, Cassandra walked out the same way Leliana left. Ashila took this as a sign to follow. Though her hands were still in chains, she followed the human out, doing her best to steel herself for whatever waited for her outside the halls.


	3. Chapter 2: Dancing On The Rift

Hey guys! The week is here and as promised: Chapter 2 for all of you! Things are starting to pick up we will finally meet that adorable EggHead we all love/cry over. I am working hard on finishing some more chapters today so hopefully Ill be able to post even sooner next week! Please remember to rate/ review and if you love my work please follow me for alerts for when I post! Thank you for reading again!

I do not own any Dragon Age Inquisition material, but I do like to think I have some claim to Ashila.

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><p>Chapter 2: Dancing On The Rift<p>

Cassandra marched out the main doors of the church, hoping against all hope that the horrifying green had been wiped from the sky, that the world made sense again. Thunderous rumbles were her only reply- The Breach remained. If anything, in the short time she was below with the prisoner, the rift seemed to only grow.

She turned, watching as the elf slowly made her way to the threshold. She walked with head held high, though she was obviously trying to hide the pain her body was in, she moved warily, expecting nothing short of being jumped on.

This was the first time Cassandra had truly looked at the elf woman. She was dressed in hunter leathers a size too big, so it hung loosely from her small frame. Her face, though still cast in the shadow of the church, was sharp like any elf's face, a heart shaped jaw, high cheekbones, eyes that could hold your own for a moment longer even despite her mismatched eyes.

Her hair, she had been informed, was once as black as night.

It would have given her a very haunted look, Cassandra thought to herself. But now it as white as snow, and, in her opinion, gave her a very serene appearance, much better suited for her. Her clan markings above her brow appeared to like a crown, with leaf-like endings below the dimple in her chin, it's meaning was lost to Cassandra- the Dalish all had their own peculiar markings. Her nose was small and pointed, it could have been too small for her face, but paired with her large eyes that danced about, taking in the hall she walked through, she could appear to look the innocent maiden. But the sharp scowl she bared along with the air of certainty in her step sent a message of a trained killer. She was, without a doubt, a the hunter that every Dalish would hope to possess in their ranks.

But her face was also sunken in, making her cheekbones more prominent, her eyes surrounded by dark circles from lack of sleep. Her hair had been tied back, she had noticed the leather strap that still clung to a few locks behind her head, most of her hair was flowing about her in disarray around her shoulders, flecks of dirt and leaves still clung to it, giving her a very disheveled appearance. With the fact she was much too small for the clothes she wore; wherever she was from, she did not seem to be treated well. Cassandra's eyes met hers again, the stark black and white of her eyes that gazed at her with apprehension, and an intelligent curiosity. Never in all her years had she heard of a person having such a peculiar set of eyes...

Cassandra watched silently as the elf stepped forward into the light. She shuddered, raising her bound hands to shield her eyes from the sudden daylight, and as she slowly lowered her hands Cassandra watched her eyes lock above her, widening in alarm. The wind blew fiercely, the pines of the mountain bending upon the force. It whipped her white tresses in a flurry around her mouth, slightly open in her petrified expression.

"We call it the "Breach." It 's a massive rift into the world of demons. And it grows larger with each passing moment." Cassandra explained, turning to glare at the tear.

"It's not the only such Rift." Cassandra admitted, a brokenness in her voice. "It is only the were caused by the explosion at the Conclave."

Ashila's eyes darted from Cassandra back to the green portal.

She wanted desperately to claim it was all some twist of fate, that the large green rift and the small tear on her hand had nothing similar about them! Her mind, however, was dealing with the small problem of running right into the one small small problem- it was all true.

"An explosion can do that?" She asked blankly, eyes still locked on the Rift in the mountain.

"This one did." Cassandra responded, turning back to face her. "And unless we act, The Breach may grow until it swallows the world."

To prove the validity of Cassandras statement, The Breach pulsed once again, sending out a plus and expanding yet again. At the same time, the sensation of lightning pierced through Ashila's left arm once more, only this time it went from being simply unpleasant to absolutely excruciating. The pulse brought her gasping to her knees, body shaking from the pain. The pulse subsided, and the pain ebbed, leaving Ashila crouched in a repenting-like position.

"You can see that as the Breach expands, your mark spreads… and you know that it is killing you." Ashila opened her eyes, squinting her eyes at the warrior who knelt before her, riding out the rest of the pain.

"But it may be the key to stopping this. But there isn't much time."

Ashila could not help but give Cassandra a disbelieving look. Her lips thinned in a line. Eyes narrowing, she lifted her unbreached hand, pointing the index finger towards the portal of doom in the sky, deliberately wagging at it.

"That," she shook her head, looking at Cassandra like she had began to tap dance.

"That is crazy. This is all crazy. I mean, you say this-"

She waved her disco-ballin hand.

"- it may be the key… to do what? Closing that thing?"

"Exactly. Closing the Breach. But whether that's possible is something we shall discover shortly." Cassandra eyed the elf, sighing heavily.

"It is our only chance, however. And yours."

Ashila's shock melted into one of wariness, eyes focused in a hard stare.

"You still think I did this? To myself?" she hissed, her left hand shaking from her pulsing mini rift.

"Not intentionally," Cassandra said, ignoring the daggers the elf was glaring at her. "But something clearly went wrong."

"And if I'm not responsible?" she retorted.

"Someone is, and you are our only suspect." Cassandra said blankly. "You wish to prove your innocence? This is the only way."

She opened her mouth to spit back lines of colorful phrases, to fight the madness coming from Cassandra's mouth- but all that passed through her lips was air. Her brows knitted together, her wide eyes sliding back to the green and black twisting sky, distress etched in her face.

She could deny it, throw as much dust as she could muster to deny her need to be involved.

But in her soul she knew she needed to stay, to fight.

She sighed, resigning herself to her fate, and looked back to Cassandra.

"I understand…"

Cassandra blinked in surprise, obviously not expecting Ashila to willingly go along with her plan.

"Then…?"

"I'll do what I can. Whatever it takes." Ashila confirmed for her, holding Cassandra with a steady but weary gaze.

Cassandra looked over the elf once more before pushing herself to her feet.

"What is your name?" she asked, lifting Ashila to her feet.

"Ashila, of clan Lavellan." Ashila responded, allowing Cassandra to guide her down the snowy path.

They entered the main hub of the village of Haven. The cobblestone street was congested with tents filled with soldiers and townsfolk alike. Many warriors were strewn about the ground, bandaged and still bleeding, for all the medical cots were filled to capacity.

Apparently all their eyes were working perfectly,however, because as the two women stepped into the throng of people, every pair locked on them- mainly on Ashila.

Many puffed up at the sight of the small elf, glaring at her with fiery hate. Normally, the glares of some humans would not bother Ashila- but they all believed that she was the one who began the destruction. On her hands they believed were the blood of friends, family, loved ones.

In the midst of all this, she could not help the cold sweat that had come over her.

Cassandra pressed on through the crowd, no one daring to block off the Seeker to get at the elf. Instead they parted like water, but their anger was drowning them.

"They have decided your guilt, they need it." Cassandra told Ashila, guiding her down the street.

"The people of Haven mourn our Most Holy, Divine Justinia, Head of the Chantry. The conclave was hers." Cassandra could not hide the sorrow in her voice at the mention of the Divine, Ashila picked up on it easily, but said nothing and continued to let Cassandra steer her out of the small town and to the dirt path leading into the hills.

"It was a chance for peace between mages and templars. She had brought their leaders together. Now, they are dead."

The had come upon a stone gateway, closed off, of course.

The guards glared at Ashila, but nodded in respect towards the Seeker, opening the gates with reluctance to the bridge.

"Do you see, Ashila? We lash out, like the sky. But we must think beyond ourselves. Like she did. Until the Breach is sealed, we must think of all."

Cassandra turned, withdrawing a small knife from her belt. Ashila stood stiff, but Cassandra simply cut the bonds from her wrists. Ashila rubbed her aching joints, trying to sooth the stinging she was experiencing as feeling returned to her hands.

"There will be a trial, but I can promise no more." Cassandra said softly. "Come, it is not far."

"Where are you taking me?" Ashila asked, looking about the snowy hills and trees around the bridge,

"Your Mark must be tested on something smaller than the Breach." Cassandra called out, walking ahead, across the bridge. Ashila quickened her pace, walking beside Cassandra.

The two women continued through the barricade on the bridge. Walking past, the fear hung around them like heavy humidity, many whispered plea's to the Maker, or reciting the Chant of Light, clinging to their faith to see them through. Cassandra called for the guards to open the gates for them, the path to their destination revealed. One soldier ran by them as they stepped off the bridge, crying about it being 'the end of the world!"

Ashila gazed at the sky again _I do not think he is far off _she thought dryly, breaking out into a light job as she headed up the slope, Cassandra following behind her.

The path evened out, the valley lying before them. Ashila could see in the distance the smoking remains of the Temple Cassandra had referred to. She paused in her brisk jog, needing a moment to take in the sight before her. The now ruined temple was far, but her eyes were sharp enough to see the fires that still burned from the explosion. Her eyes slowly moved upward, following the thin tail-like beam of green light that coiled upwards from the remains into the Breach above.

She exhaled slowly, her destination now clear, and began walking again down the back of the hill, following the trail into the valley.

It was then the Breach pulsed again, much stronger than before. Ashila was unable to keep the cry of surprise and pain in her throat, once again crumbling to the ground at the overpowering agony. When it passed, she was left weak and almost feeble.

She realized Cassandra had been correct- again. The Breach was slowly consuming her- _killing _her.

Cassandra said nothing. Walking over to the still reeling elf, she slowly helped her to her feet, holding her steady to make sure she did not tumble again.

"The pulses are coming faster now." Ashila nodded, face drained of color and looking more sickly by the moment.

Confident that she was able to keep herself upright, Ashila started forward again, Cassandra following closely behind to catch her if she fell again.

"The more the Breach grows, the more Rifts appear, and the more demons we face." Cassandra said to her as they made their way down the hill.

"Well that certainly can put a damper on things." Ashila muttered, trying to shake the fuzziness from her vision.

"How did I survive the blast?" she raised her voice so Cassandra could hear her.

"I am assuming that none of my companions survived?"

"They did not," Cassandra replied. "As for surviving the explosion- they said you… stepped out of a Rift, then fell unconscious,"

Cassandra went quiet for a moment, then added; "They say a woman was in the Rift behind you. No one knows who she was."

Ashila did not respond nor paused in her gait, but she was reflecting back to her dream, the woman of light that had saved her from the wolves; the dream that was reality. The wind blew strongly around them, lifting flurries of snow to dance everywhere. Brushing her wild hair behind a long- pointed ear, she pushed the thoughts away. _The woman is not of any concern, the problem is how in Gods name will that blasted thing be closed? _

They had reached the second bridge when Cassandra spoke again, walking beside Ashila. "Everything farther in the valley was laid to waste, including the Temple of Sacred Ashes."

Cassandra gazed out into the valley as they reached the middle of the bridge. "I suppose you'll see soon enough."

The glow of green light began to surround them, Ashila looked up only in time to pull Cassandra back as a ball of green flame plummeted right into the stone where the warrior was going to step. the bridge groaned from the impact, then, with a sickening crunch, the bridge began to collapse.

Ashila felt the stone disappear from under her, the sensation of her insides jumping into her throat as she fell with the stones and Cassandra around her. She landed unceremoniously on the ice of the frozen river with a grunt. She barely had time to catch her breath when another meteor of fire spilled from the Breach crashing into the ice, yards from where they were trying to get to their feet. From the fires emerged three Shades,rising out of the heat in twisted damnation.

Demons from the fade that had eyes only for them.

Ashila leapt to her feet, reaching both hands behind her to grasp the daggers usually in their holders. She cursed when all she grasped was air- being weak was one thing, but weak AND defenseless was not something that sat well with her.

She heard the singing of metal and turned to see Cassandra drawing her sword from it's sheath.

"Stay behind me!" She commanded, clashing her sword against her shield, attracting the three Shades to herself instead of Ashila.

As she leapt away, however, another Shade rose from the mists, it's focus on Ashila's defenseless self.

Gritting her teeth, Ashila looked around wildly as the Shade slowly moved towards her, she searched from something- anything, to defend herself with.

From the corners of her vision, a glimmer of steel caught her attention. Turning her head, she spotted two conveniently placed daggers, nestled in the rubble of the fallen bridge as if waiting for her to pick them up. Normally she would have been wary, because she knew that they were not there before, she would have grabbed them if they were! But this was not the time for the usual, especially with the Shade rearing back to strike her.

Her decision came swiftly. Tumbling out from under the Shade's clawed hand, Ashila scrambled for the daggers, quickly grabbing them. She then steadied her breath, closing her eyes and calming herself as she always did before a fight. When she opened them, they were narrow and focused, no fear and no weariness in their depths. The Shade had turned and moved for her again, claws ready to meet flesh, but when they came down, the elf had vanished.

The Shade looked around for it's prey, growling angrily at it's loss, then shrieked in pain as two dagger protruded out of it's chest. The body of the now dead Shade began to burn, fading away into nothing, and Ashila turned her stony gaze towards Cassandra, who was doing her best to fend off the other three demons.

Ashila then broke out into a full sprint, her feet barely touching the ice and arms held tightly to her sides as not to hinder her speed. Disappearing again into nothingness, she reappeared at Cassandras left, jumpin upon a Shade blades first, pinning it to the ground as it tried to claw at her. A claw grazed her cheek, drawing blood, but the Shade met the same fate as the one before it, breaking apart and fading.

Cassandra had just finished the other two Shades as Ashila stood up from where she was kneeling upon the now vanished Shade. Brushing the blood from her stinging cheek, she looked up only to see the end of Cassandra's blade raised at her.

"Drop your weapons, _now." _She commanded, glaring at the elf.

Ashila looked at the warrior in disbelief, she had helped save her skin! She considered refusing Cassandra's order, there was no way she could match her speed- but Ashila's limbs felt heavy as stone, and her breathing was labored from the stress the Mark was putting her under. Usually she could escape without incident, but right now…

Growling softly, she lowered her daggers.

'Alright, have it your way."

She bent forward, keeping her eyes on Cassandra as she went to place her daggers on the ground, but the warrior stopped her, sheathing her sword as she went.

"Wait. You do not need a weapon, but you should have one. I cannot protect you." Cassandra gave her a wry smile. "Besides, you obviously know what you are doing."

Ashila could not help the small smile that tugged at her lips. Satisfied, Cassandra indicated her to follow, turning to walk carefully across the frozen water, intent on following the icy stream up a small embankment. Thinking of something, Cassandra turned back to Ashila,

"I should remember you agreed to come willingly. Not many would in your position."

_Many would not realize they had no choice in the matter _Ashila thought to herself, but silently nodded at Cassandras words, following her up the stream.

"Where are your other warriors?" She asked instead, walking slowly as not to slip.

""Either fighting the demons, or ahead at the forward camp. Either way, we are on our own for now.' Cassandra responded, warily looking up at the icicles hanging above them on the rock outcropping.

"If we continue to follow the river we should be able to meet up with the path again." she said to the elf, who nodded and continued forward. Ashila stumbled a few times, her vision going blurry and head light, but Cassandra was always there in an instant to help her stand till she could right herself.

_This blasted Mark is making a fool out of me, _Ashila thought to herself bitterly. She did not know if she could live down dying due to dizziness.

More Shades were ahead of them, patrolling the icy water ahead. The pair made quick work of them, Cassandra drawing the brunt of their attacks while Ashila flanked from behind.

Cassandra could not help but silently watch the rogue elf. She had met many in her life, but this one moved with a natural grace that took others many decades to learn. When she fought, all signs of the Mark's effect on her disappeared. Her eyes narrowed, cold and alive all at once, completely immersed in her practice. It was like she turned into a different person entirely when she fought.

She was fast too. Cassandra made note when she watched her turn sharply on the ice as they fought through more demons, her feet seemed to glide on the surface of the ice, her feet making no noise as she ran circles around the demons without so much as a slip or wobble in her balance- never letting them get enough time to retaliate from her relentless attacks.

As soon as the fight was over, however, the weariness returned. She trudged along instead of like lightning, eyes clouded and heavy. The Breach was most definitely taking away what strength she possessed, soon it would impact her fighting, leading to a slip, to a fatal swipe that could end all their hopes. But Ashila remained as silent as ever, pausing only to catch her breath or look around at the land around her.

They continued on, using the river as their guide. Occasionally Ashila would hop onto the embankment, walking into the brush to find various loot that had been misplaced or left beside a cold corpse.

Cassandra saw no problem with it, the dead did not need belongings where they were going.

Though she strayed from their path many times, she always kept in Cassandras vision range and always returned quickly, either with elfroot in hand on a few coppers.

They had finally found a set of stone steps leading up from the lake into the hills again. Ashila's ears twitched, the sound of clashing metal and battle cries faint in the distant. Cassandra heard it too.

"We are getting close to the Rift. You can hear the fighting."

"Who's fighting?" Ashila called out, pushing her exhaustion to the side and breaking out into a run up the steps.

"You'll see soon. We must help them!" Cassandra shouted over the din, running after her.

The ground plateaued as Ashila lept up the last step. The dirt path split into two, one leading to the burning remains of another bridge, the one in front of her dipping down into another set of stairs, to the battle below her.

Bodies of the fallen lay strewn about the dirt and snow, the red tainting the white. The few who remained breathing were struggling. They were exhausted, eyes full of fear, their numbers steadily dropping as the flow of demons remained constant. Ashila glanced beyond the fight to the green crystal like shard hovering in midair- The Rift. It must have been because of her connection to it because of her Mark, but as Ashila stared into the green veil, she was able to see the very fabric where their reality began to fray into the green of the Rift itself. It looked like a terrible patchwork job. From it the demons poured, never allowing the fighters a moment to breath and regroup.

The only ones that seemed to be faring well was the elvhen mage and the small man with a very intriguing crossbow- but even they were being pushed back by the demons.

"We must hurry or they will be overrun!' Cassandra shouted, bounding down the steps to her men.

Ashila followed after. Leaping down the flight of steps she quickly overtook Cassandra, allowing herself to disappear with a puff of smoke.

Initially, she had intended to strike down the pair of demons cornering a wounded soldier. But her eyes were drawn away, gravitating towards the mage. He handled himself considerably well, able to keep the demons at bay with a barrage of electric spells, and if they got too close he would strike them across the head with the blunt head of his staff, then leaping away. But he had turned to cast a spell of protection around the wounded soldier, leaving himself wide open for the demon that had creeped up behind him. He was so focused on the demons before him, he did not notice the one at his back, it's claws raised in the air to strike...

_Not him! _

Her body moved on it's own accord, her mind filled with unnatural fear for the other elf. She planted her foot into the ground, using her momentum to quickly change her course, bee-lining for the bald elvhen.

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><p>Solas' head was not in the battle. Though fighting came second nature to him, his body going through the movements and his magic flying free, his mind was in turmoil. Everything he tried every spell he could think of- none of them were able to close the Rift, let alone stop the demons.<p>

He had come to help, the Breach was something that affected them all, but he knew how the humans felt about the elvhen, and being an apostate, it would not be long till they suspected that he could be the cause of their misfortune.

He struck a demon in the side of the head with his staff, hopping away as he continued to think rapidly.

_I could always slip away, find some remote corner of the world, more time to find a solution. _He thought grimly, even though the sensible voice in his head told him he had exhausted all his theories and knowledge to try to find a solution, to no avail.

"We must hurry, or they will be overrun!" He shook himself out of his thoughts, glancing up briefly to see the Seeker running towards the fray, her sword in hand and shield ready.

_Ah, our glorious savior has come, _he thought to himself, then frowned.

Who had the Lady Seeker been speaking too?

He had no time to dwell on the thought, a cry of pain drawing his eyes. One of the soldiers, a young man barely able to grow a proper beard, had been pinned down by two demons, his fear petrifying him as if he was a resisted the urge to raise his eyes to the heavens, opting to instead sigh like a worn-out babysitter and cast a barrier to protect the young lad…

Then he felt it, the frigid breath, the sound of a guttural snarl.

He had slipped up.

His nose wrinkled in disdain, he turned to face the Shade with a glare, raising his staff to fend off the brunt of the damage the raised claws would do, but he knew his skin would be shredded.

The blow never came. Instead the Shade let out a chilling screech, it's chest forced upwards as the pointed ends of two blades protruded from its chest cavity. Solas blinked in surprise, holding his staff in an iron grip as he watched the Shade melt away.

Then he saw his savior.

He had been allowed to see her for a moment before he was called away to assess the Rift. At the time she had been unconscious, but he remembered watching the last of her black locks fade into white, her face perspiring in a cold sweat as she whimpered softly, no doubt from the Mark that glowed from her left palm. She had been as white as the hair on her small head, the dark circles around her closed eyes more noticeable due to her incapacitated condition. Her hair had been a mess, some still tied by the leather she had bound it with, the rest had been clinging to her face. He remembered wiping her brow with a damp cloth, trying to stifle the heat she was burning from, listening to her mumble incoherently. Many times he had fed her a mixture of water, herbs, and wild honey, hoping to give her some nutrients and medicine to help her fever.

It seems his labors over her were not for nothing.

She was still deathly pale, her white hair, now completely free, blowing wildly from the wind and the speed at which the ran to him, but instead of pain on her face, it was an expression of determination and power, and her eyes…

His breath caught in his throat. Solas was a man rarely taken by surprise, but he had not expected her eyes to be so different- so familiar. He had never seen such eyes in his life. Black and white all in one, a stark duality that captivated his curiosity.

Time had slowed as they stared back at each other. Her face was still, mouth open slightly in a shocked expression probably very similar to his.

There was movement behind her, in the few precious seconds that had felt like eternity, the last of the Shades had come up behind the small elf, intent on having her head while she was still stupefied.

Solas felt a great wave of fury overcome him. His face bared a silent snarl as he aimed a huge bolt of lightening at the Shade, it's electrical current tickling the woman's cheek, jolting her back to her senses.

* * *

><p>Ashila whipped her head about as the shade behind her faded away like dust, her face flushed in anger and embarrassment.<p>

Mostly embarrassment.

The Shades had been defeated, for a time, but her head was still reeling from that moment of stillness.

For once, it was not from how the Breach was affecting her.

But she had no moment to dwell.

Her left arm was grabbed roughly. Ashila turned to snarl at whoever touched her, only to be pulled toward the Rift by the very elf who was causing her flustered state.

"Quickly, before more come through!"

He commanded with a voice much deeper than she thought he would have. Her stared at her again (she refused to acknowledge the feeling of her stomach dropping), and gripped her wrist tightly, then thrusted her hand towards the Rift.

She cried out in surprise and the Mark on her palm flared to life, connecting with the Rift on some magical level that she could not comprehend. The feeling was unnatural, and she wanted desperately to pull away, but she was felt locked in place not only by the connection, but by the strong grip of the other elf. The rift crackled and sputtered for a moment, then, in a flash of green, collapsed on itself, disappearing from the world, completely wiped away.

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><p>What did we think? I figured that was a good spot to leave you all hanging on (haaaaa!) Tell me what you hated, what you loved, and what you're hoping to see happen in more of my chapters!<p> 


	4. Chapter 3: Well, Bianca Is Excited!

Happy Weekend, My Readers! Things are starting to pick up a little bit for dear Ashila, she finally is introduced to the merry band for starters! Maybe a little chat or two with Solas to bamboozle her. All very exciting, I assure you!

As usual please comment, rate, and leave messages! If you wish for updates on my story please follow me! I love knowing people like to read my work. Helps me write faster, you know?

Comments are always appreciated as well! I wont keep you any longer enjoy the chapter!

I do not own Dragon Age: Inquisition, this is a Bioware thing only, but I would like to think I somewhat own Ashila.

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><p>Chapter 3: Well, At Least Bianca Is Excited<p>

Ashila looked to where the Rift had once been, expecting it to reappear in vengeance, maybe toss a Pride Demon at them for shits and giggles.

The only thing that moved in the heavy stillness was the white flakes of snow, falling softly around them. After a time, those present breathed a collective sigh of relief.

It actually worked.

Ashila turned to the male elf, eyes wide in wonder and confusion.

"How? What did you do?" she breathed.

The elf wore a small smile, his shoulders relaxing from their stress.

"_I _did nothing. The credit is yours." he said, inclining his head towards her. Ashila could not help but notice the accent that brought flavor to his words, but the thought was fleeting as she glanced at her hand.

" I think you mean this." she said, looking at him with a blank expression, raising her still glowing palm up for emphasis.

"Whatever magic opened the Breach in the sky also placed that mark upon your hand." he said, nodding towards her raised hand.

"I theorized the Mark might be able to close the Rifts that have opened in the Breach's wake- it seems I was correct."

His eyes danced, obviously pleased at the result of his little experiment.

Cassandra walked up, "Meaning it could also close the Breach itself." the elfs gaze turned from Ashila to her, giving Cassandra a short nod.

"Possibly." he said simply to her.

He then turned back to Ashila gazing down at her as he folded his hands together.

"It seems you hold the key to our salvation."

Ashila scrunched her nose at the thought, disliking the very idea. Her thoughts were interrupted but the clearing of a throat. She turned, looking down at the small man that stood away from them. He was brushing the demon dust from his coat, a wry grin on his stubble filled face.

"Good to know! Here I thought we'd be ass-deep in demons forever."

Ashila blinked, surprised by the blunt (and so very crass!) tone the small man had. The male elf chucked, while Cassandra rolled her eyes, muttering 'dwarf' under her breath.

Ashila turned back to the dwarf, her eyes lighting up.

"You are a dwarf?" she asked curiously. Her clan rarely had contact with any outsides, so besides the occasional human, she had never seen a dwarf in her life.

The dwarf chuckled at her interest, bowing low with such deliberate frivolity that Ashila had to purse her lips to keep from smiling.

"Indeed I am, little missy. Varric Tethras: rogue, storyteller, and occasionally, unwelcomed tagalong." at this, he looked over at Cassandra, giving her a wink. Cassandra's already hard face regressed further into a stony glare that was made especially for the dwarf.

Ashila had a little trouble believing that Varric was here specifically for love of the Chantry, from what she could tell they went together as the dalish helping the humans. And she asked him as such, withholding her opinion about the Dalish.

Varric and Solas both shared a good natured chuckle, the two exchanging looks that confirmed her suspicions.

"Technically, Glow, I'm a prisoner, just like you."

"Glow? What-"

Cassandra interrupted with a loud cough.

"I brought you here to tell your story to the Divine. _Obviously, _this is no longer necessary."

"Yet, here I remain! Lucky for you, considering the current events." Varric opened his arms wide, gesturing to the fires, blood, and overall madness around them.

Ashila paid no mind to the glowering warrior and sarcastic archer, opting to instead direct the conversation in a more mature path.

"A pleasure, Ser Tetheras." she said, cutting both off and nodding at the dwarf.

"You may reconsider that stance, in time."

Ashila turned to glare at the other elf, his impish grin along with his baiting words doing nothing to help the situation between the other two. The elf raised his brows, looking back at her with the most innocent expression he could muster.

Ass.

Varric, on the other hand, seemed to enjoy the elfs playful banter.

"You wound me! I'm sure we'll become great friends in the valley, Chuckles."

"Absolutely not!" Cassandra blustered, looking at the dwarf like he had grown two heads before her eyes.

"Your help was _much _ appreciated, Varric,"

It wasn't.

"But…"

Varric, having enough of Cassandra's objections, took this moment to cut her off, just to see how she would feel about it.

"Have you been in the valley lately, Seeker? This might come as a shock, but your men, as _stellar _as they are, are not in control anymore. You need me." He said this in the sweetest of voices, giving the warrior a 'killing with kindness' smile.

Cassandra did not approve of the way Varric had cut off her rant, not the dose of reality he had just given her. Her jaw flexed, working through her passionate fury as she stared hard at the dwarf.

It was a hard pill to swallow.

Unable to deny any of Varric's claims, Cassandra growled angrily, stomping away from the smug looking dwarf.

The entire conversation was quite comical.

The elf beside Ashila coughed lightly, meaning to get her attention. Rolling her eyes she turned to the elf, placing her daggers back in their sheaths as she went.

"My name is Solas, if there are to be introductions." He said, bowing his head in greeting.

"I am pleased to see you still live." he added pleasantly. Causing Ashila to tilt her head in confusion.

At that Varric chuckled diverting her attention back to him, "He means to say, "I kept the Mark from killing you while you slept.'"

Ashila's eyebrows raised. Unable to stop herself, she glanced back at Solas, who stood there with his hands folded behind him looking as calm as ever. The small thoughts she kept to herself raised their heads hopefully, but she squashed them immediately- there had to be a reason, a means for the end.

"You seem to know an awful lot about this accursed thing." she said suspiciously, her walls back up to full.

"Solas is an Apostate." Cassandra said, turning back to them. "Unlike most mages in the Circle, he possesses knowledge that those who live outside our way of life would not consider."

"Technically all mages are now apostates, Cassandra." The smile on his face did not meet his eyes.

"Though she is correct." he continued, looking back to Ashila. "My travels have allowed me to learn much of the Fade, far beyond the experience of any Circle Mage."

Ashila could not help but catch the faint tone of distaste as 'Circle Mage' left his mouth, though he did very well in hiding it from the rest of them. Solas continued, forcing her out of her minds musings.

"I came to offer whatever help I could with the Breach. If it is not closed, we are all doomed, regardless of one's origin."

"Well that much is true .All it takes is an apocalypse for everyone to see we are all the same." she muttered, causing Solas to chuckle again.

"I'm sure that the people of Thedas will find some way to bicker once more, regardless of the impending disaster." He said with a smirk. He then turned to Cassandra again, his face growing somber.

"Cassandra, you should know: the magic that created this Breach is unlike any I have seen. Your prisoner is no even so, I find it difficult to imagine any mage having such powers."

Cassandra nodded, then looked ahead to the Temple in the distance.

"We must get to the forward camp, immediately. From there we shall decide how best to assault the Temple remains." With that, she stepped over a pile of rubble that had once been a wall, indicating for the others to follow.

As Solas followed behind her, Varric came up beside Ashila, who looked down to her new, and very unlikely. companion. He looked back at her, chewing on the side of his cheek, before shrugging and saying:

"Well, Bianca's excited!"

Ashila stared at the dwarf for a moment, before shaking her head and walking after the other two. Varric smiled to himself- it did not escape his notice the small smile that pulled at her lips before she hurried off so he would not see.

He knew he'd like Glow.

"So, friend," Solas started as Varric and Ashila slid down the embankment to meet up with them, catching her eye. "You know our names, what might be yours? I am sure you do not wish for us to simply refer to you as 'Prisoner'."

Ashila hopped down to the level ground, her feet pressing into the snow with a soft crunch, before looking up to Solas. And he was quite tall, another head above her own.

She pursed her lips and looked down to her loose clothing, pulling at it to distract herself from his piercing gaze and good natured smile he always seemed to have, even when it did not reach his eyes.

"My name is Ashila." she said shortly, pulling at the leather buckle around her forearm, trying to tighten it. Even on the last of the belt holds the damn leather was still as baggy as ever on her, she noted unhappily before walking on to follow Cassandra, leaving Solas to watch her walk away with a very confused look on his face. He then moved to follow her at a much slower pace.

Varric watched the entire exchange with an amused look on his face.

_I suppose Glow is not used to all this sudden popularity _he thought, chuckling to himself while catching up to his companions. A hot-headed warrior, a mysterious mage, a rogue who was at the wrong place at the wrong time, and himself- the dashing comic relief. This story was going to rival his adventures in Kirkwall in no time.

_Hawke is going to have a cow when he hears about this. Probably going to have a good laugh about it too, something about me always getting into more trouble than I bargain for._

_~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~(())~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~_

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><p>They continued down the white slope, entering the shade of trees that surrounded the frozen water. Varric and Cassandra's feet crunched in the snow, as they walked on their mark was left in the footprints that followed them. The elves and their lighter steps pressed into the snows surface, leaving light imprints that faded when the wind blew fresh powder over their trail.<p>

The shadow of the Mountains blocked the sight of the sun and the Breach, but the flashes from its core still tainted the clouds that swirled overhead with it's sickening green. Ashila regarded them with foreboding thoughts, palms sweaty despite the cold. There was an embankment they walked besides, and she looked into it, her face grim. The still body of the soldier lay sprawled out, legs stuck out at awkward angles from their broken bones. Where his chest plate would be, a deep red gouge in his armor lay bare. Ashila was able to see into his chest cavity- his ribs were broken in bits, his lungs and heart punctured with bone and torn to shreds. His eyes were open, glassy, staring back at her, vacant. She wanted to appear unperturbed by the body- death will always come to anyone and everyone. But the sight still made her unconsciously shiver.

Her ears perked up, catching a sound before she could register the she heard it: the ragged cries of demons. Most likely, the ones who slaughtered the young soldier. Solas must have heard it too, for his hand reached for his staff, his pleasant face falling into a hard stare. "More demons are ahead."

Cassandra unsheathed her blade, glaring over at Varric who was chuckling to himself.

"Happy you have me now, Seeker?" he asked her wryly, chucking again at her grunt of displeasure.

They moved around the corner slowly, eyeing the many Shades and Wraiths that prowled the ice meters ahead. More mangled corpses lay strewn about, but they continued to swivel their ethereal heads back and forth, seeking more prey for their hunger.

"We must approach cautiously," Solas began, gripping his staff tightly as he assessed the demons with a calculating gaze.

"Cassandra should go in first to distract the main- Wait!" Solas reached out, attempting to grab the hem of Ashila's clothes, but his fingers clenched around air as she sprinted towards the demons, vanishing as she went.

Cursing to himself, he signaled for Cassandra to rush the Shades. Cassandra nodded, rushing out of the corner with a war cry that turned all the demons towards her, their shrieks of glee matching her own. Varric and Solas set to work with their ranged attacks, Varric hopping around for good openings, pumping the demons full of bolts. Solas shielded Cassandra with a great barrier of energy of blue, and while he set out barrages of lightening to stagger and stun, his eyes searched for the hidden rouge. Out of the corner of his eye he say the snow to his left being kicked up not a meter ahead, as if someone was running on it.

"There you are , he murmured, following the footprints with his eyes as they traveled to the Wisps that were providing range attacks for the demons.

Ashila ran silently, the wind louder than her boots hitting the ice. In the shadows she was free, and in her invisibility her usually passive face held an animalistic snarl. Her eyes were focused on the Wraiths that attacked her companions. She should have waited for Solas to come up with a plan, that would have been the wisest and certainly the safest option.

Damn it though, the sight of the dead soldier had burned her veins, pumping blood so hot it filled her ears with it's pluse and made her see red. Chaos like this was something she never wished to be a part of, but everyone believed she was the cause of their loved ones demise. That soldier had a life, a young lady that consumed his thoughts, or a family that would look for him at the end of the day.

They would never see him come over the snowy slopes, and they would curse her name for it all.

She came upon the Wraiths, melting from the shadows with steel and fire in her mismatched eyes. She hated them. They were the ones to blame for the blood of the soldiers who would never come home. She struck them down in a flurry of daggers, and she did it with such grace that it could have passed for dancing.

But she was so absorbed in her rage she failed to notice the Shade that broke away from the group that had surrounded Cassandra, coming at her with a gurgling wail of rage. She turned in time, wide eyed, to see it's black claws raised high and coming down upon her with deadly force. She cursed herself and her impatience, knowing she had no time to deflect the blow, and waited for her own blood to be spilled on the snow.

The blow came down, but never reached it's target. A loud humming caused Ashila to look up in alarm. The claws were mere inches from her petite nose, the only thing keeping the demon from its kill was the ice blue barrier that held strong against its force. She turned back to her companions, her eyes easily finding the other elf in the fray. He stood proud, hand outstretched towards her and his face was lined with concentration. He had been waiting to help her if she had needed it, Ashila realized as he spun his staff high above his head, releasing energy blasts that assaulted the Shades so Cassandra could cut them down.

Ashila turned back to the growling Shade, whose arms pounded against the barrier, screeching in anger because it could not feel Ashila's flesh in its claws. Her face twisted in rage. Snarling back at the demon in elvish, Ashila drove her daggers into its hideous face, standing firm while it screeched and convulsed, trying to bat her away. Eventually the struggling subsided, and the demon faded away, her arms dropped with her daggers.

She turned to look at her companions, sheathing her weapons. Varric had struck the last Shade in between the eyes with a bolt from Bianca, and Cassandra drove her sword through it's back, earning a final screech from the demon as it faded.

Cassandra nodded at Ashila when she walked up, her face still stoic but her eyes held confidence and respect. Ashila returned the look with a nod of her own before looking over. Solas was walking over, his face impassive and unreadable. Ashila balled her hands into fists, ears lowering like a child who was expecting to be reprimanded for their foolish behavior. She hated the feeling, but she had been brash and impulsive, for that she deserved whatever lecture the elf had in store for her.

Solas surprised her however. Looking her over to see she was without injury, he nodded and said,

" If we continue on like this, we should be able to reach the forward camp without much delay." He nodded his head towards her, a smile playing on his lips that had the hairs on the back of her neck tingling.

"You are quite precise with your blades, Da'Len. I never knew one could dance with such deadly skill."

Ashila flushed red, embarrassed and shocked at Solas' honeyed words when she was expecting ridicule.

Cassandra, not paying attention to the coy tone of the older elf, marched forward.

"Come, we must get to the forward camp immediately."

Varric, on the other hand, heard and saw the words and their effect on the younger elf, was barely able to keep his roar of laughter contained and opted to hurry after the Seeker.

Ashila, her cheeks still rosey, turned to follow after, but felt a soft, calloused hand grasp her own. She turned back, white hair blowing across her face, to stare apprehensively at Solas.

His face, still with that smile of his, had melted into one of concern, his eyes searching hers. She blushed again, noting that he still grasped her hand even though she had turned to him. It was warm and enveloped hers with ease. She tried to fight the thoughts, to appear unaffected by his presence and seem confident. But she failed, barely registering him speaking, unable to ignore the warmth and his close proximity. He smelled of the earth, a burning fire, and the rain in the mountains.

"You are used to fighting alone, are you not?" she nodded slowly, still swept up in the blue of his eyes that held such deep understanding and knowledge that she wish she could attain.

"I understand it is difficult to trust those when you are far from your home," he continued slowly, still holding her hand in his.

"But you are not alone, and the burden of this task is not yours alone to bear, should you allow us to help."

He walked slowly around her, allowing her hand to gently slip from his, but his eyes still held her as he circled.

He gazed at her for a moment longer then turned, looking away and breaking his spell. Ashila let out the breath she had been unconsciously holding, her eyes still on the back of his tanned head.

"How do I know I can trust you- any of you?" she asked, adding the rest of their companions into her question as to not seem like a childish Da'len to the older elf. At this he turned his head, his small smile replaced by a wolfish grin that, if Ashila had allowed it, would have taken her breath away.

"You don't." he whispered, his voice carrying on the wind and dancing around her ears. The then shrugged, the pelt across his shoulders shining in the light,

"That is a decision you must come to yourself, should you dare." he smirked and turned again, leaving the small elf rooted on the ice.

She watched him walk for a moment before shaking herself of the glamour that had taken hold of her. Cursing silently at her behavior around the other elf, she rushed forward, jogging to catch up with her comrades

~~~~~~~~~~.

"So, Glow- I have to ask, ARE you innocent?

Ashila rolled her eyes at Varrics question, bending down to grab at another elfroot.

"I don't remember what happened." she said without turning around.

"That'll get you every time! Especially with this have started off with a story."

"That is what you would have done." Cassandra's deadpanned response had Ashila shaking her head as she stood back up.

"Well it's more believable, and less prone to result in premature execution."

Solas began to cough, obviously trying (and failing) to hide his mirth.

Ashila sighed. This was why she would never bear children.

Her Mark hummed again, causing her to wince, hissing softly as she forced her hand to be still and ride out the wave of pain. Solas looked over, his concern evident.

"My magic can no longer hold back the Mark," he said to her, "We must hurry and reach our destination before it gets any worse." Ashila glanced at the Mark, cursing it silently before nodding at Solas.

There wasn't much time.

They continued up the mountain, deposing of the random pockets of demons the Breach belched out at them. This time Ashila would wait for Cassandra to draw the demons attention, then dash in and begin to pick off the weaker ones, doing her best to allow more faith to her new team.

After every assault, the team would catch their breaths, assessing the damage done to them. There were always a few cuts and scrapes; Varric let a wisp hit him in the chest, Cassandra had a bloody cut on the side of her head (it looked worse than it actually was); always something that needed patching up. Each time Cassandra would rustle through the pack attached to her hip, grabbing a red potion bottle and passing it to the one who needed it most.

As they patched themselves up, Ashila would unconsciously reach to her hip, intending to grab the water-skin that she always had at her side, but was disappointed each time as she grabbed air. _It must have been ripped off my belt in the blast from the Temple_, she thought sullenly, reminding herself that when they returned to Haven, she would have to get another so that she could have her fix. Gods, she did not want to get the shakes…

Regardless of her inner turmoil, Ashila and the group pressed on further into the valley, Cassandra's promise that the forward camp was not far off fueling their march. As the rounded the side of the hill, however, they saw their path to the forward camp was blocked off. The camp guards were under assault by another Rift. Weapons were already at the ready, and the team dived into the fray, their knowledge of the previous Rift giving their steps assurance, their hearts confident.

They knew exactly what to do.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~(())~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

To the guards that had been fending off the demons with their very lives, hope had left them long ago. As the demons pinned them against the walls of the small fort they defended, the thoughts of loved ones left alone, their faith dashed, and the end of their very lives were on the forefront of their minds. Imagine their faces as they witnessed the white haired elf they had ferried back from the main Breach at the Temple hurdling into the horde, her daggers flashing with a biting touch. Their eyes widened, wonder filling them as the Right Hand herself stormed in right after the elf, her shield colliding with the demons like waves upon the rocks, shattering their position and driving the demons from them.

A hail of arrows and spells followed the two saviors, further battering the demons to their deaths. The soldiers could only watch on in amazement, their lives saved in the most impossible and magnificent way.

The pale elf stepped forth from the carnage and bodies of the decaying demons, the Mark on her hand flashing with such an intensity they could not help but back away from her in awe and slight apprehension. But she paid no attention to the soldiers, her focus only on the Rift before her.

Her large eyes were narrow and resolute as she stood tall before the flashing Rift. She raised her glowing palm to the void, never making a sound as the two flashed and connected before them. The light from the Rift tinted her white hair green, from its center flashes of energy fired out, striking the ground and blackening it. But she stood firm, eyes locked and concentrating. The soldiers could not help but gasp, pressing themselves into the stone of the fort as they beheld the Rift collapsing on itself under the will of the elf, fading into nothingness with a loud crack.

In the stillness of the winters cold, the snow fell softly on the ground, melting in their hair. The elf stood proudly before them, her companions standing not far off as they stared at where the Rift once hung in the reality of their world, almost daring it to return with their eyes. She lowered her hand, the Mark still sputtering it's evil light, and breathed a quiet sigh of relief, the wind gently blowing her hair.

It was then, watching the elf-

that the soldiers believed again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~(())~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Are you all unharmed?" Cassandra inquired of the soldiers who had started to collect themselves.

"Ay, Lady Seeker." said one from behind their helmet, standing on shaky feet.

"Minor cuts and some bruising, I suspect. If you had not been so swift I do not think we would have held out. You have our thanks." he raised his hand to his heart in a closed fist, saluting Cassandra.

"There is no time for pleasantries, open the gate!" Cassandra barked.

Ashila was surprised the soldiers skeleton stayed inside his skin with the way he jumped at Cassandra's order.

"Right away, Lady Seeker. Open the gate!"

"We have a moment of respite, you have done well." Solas commented as the wooden gate groaned, slowly opening before them.

"Indeed, you're starting to get rather good at this Rift-closing thing." Varric commented, placing Bianca in her holster.

Ashila nodded, reveling in how her limbs relaxed from the closing of another Rift. The pain was still there, but it had again lessened to the point where she felt more whole- more herself. There was still a ways to go, but the spring in her step was obvious to the others as she hopped through the gate, the others following in tow.

The soldiers looked about the same as the ones that were stationed at Haven and at the other camps: scared and hopeless. They walked around with a glazed look in their eye, performing their tasks as if they were set to autopilot, going through the motions but putting nothing into them.

_Ghosts in physical bodies…_ Ashila thought, watching a soldier pass by her. Though she did not share their religion or way of life, she empathized with them; she knew what it was like to feel such hopelessness.

The only thing that could be heard, save for the shuffling of mail and the explosions in the distance, was the loud quarreling of a woman and an older man ahead of them.

"Leliana made it." Cassandra said, looking ahead to the red headed woman that Ashila had met in the dungeon hours before. She was using her hands expressively, trying to convey with some urgency her opinion to the very disgruntled looking man who was shaking his head with such force Ashila was surprised it didn't fly off!

"Come, let us see what they squabble about." Cassandra stared forward, grabbing a satchel of potions from the table beside her.

They walked up to Leliana and the man, who was alerted to their presence by Leliana's shift and focus. He turned and, looking from Cassandra, directed a very pompous looking glare in Ashila's direction.

"Ah, here they come."

His voice reeked of privilege and a man accustomed to power. Ashila felt the corners of her mouth twitch, trying to raise in a sneer, but she kept herself in check, refusing to allow this slimy looking git to see that he had an impact on her.

Leliana stepped forward, looking at the group with a hint of relief in her eyes.

"You made it." she turned to the man, nodding her head in their direction.

"Chancellor Roderick, this is-"

The weasel interrupted Leliana with a dismissive tone.

"I know who she is."

He then pointed an accusatory finger at Ashilas chest, his sneer causing her to grit her teeth.

"As Grand Chancellor of the Chantry, I hereby order you to take this despicable criminal to Val Royeaux to face execution."

Ashila opened her mouth to verbally beat the man, but Cassandra put herself between the two, her anger flaring for both of them.

"Order me"? You are nothing more than a glorified clerk! A bureaucrat!"

Roderick stepped back, eyeing the sword at Cassandra's side, but puffed himself up again and spat back:

"And you are a thug, but a thug who _supposedly _serves the Chantry!"

Cassandra's outraged scoff brought a smile to his face.

Leliana, ever the mediator, stepped in.

"We serve the Most Holy, Chancellor, as you well know." she said coolly, diverting the man's attention back to her.

"And Justinia is dead! No thanks to you two. We must elect her replacement, and obey _her _orders on this infernal matter!" he all but shouted in Leliana's face. Though her face deepened in a frown, her cool demeanor remained.

Ashila was growing tired of the roundabout bickering. She lifted her unMarked hand, leaning her head into it and closing her eyes, the headache returning.

"So none of you are actually in charge here? Brilliant." she deadpanned, rubbing the bridge of her nose.

Rodrick was outraged.

"You KILLED everyone who was in charge!" He seethed, spittle flying from his mouth. Ashila scrunched her nose in disgust, wiping the discharge from her scarf.

He then turned to Cassandra, who had stepped forward.

"Call a retreat, Seeker." his voice turned weary, his eyes betraying the hopelessness felt by all present. "Our position here is hopeless."

Cassandra's eyes held none of the emotions the Chancellor felt. Instead there was a fire that burned ever brighter at his words.

"We can stop this, before it's too late."

The Chancellor looked at her in disbelief. "How? You won't survive long enough to reach the Temple, even with all your soldiers."

"We must get to the Temple, it is the quickest route." she pressed.

"But it is not the safest." Leliana piped up, bringing all eyes to focus on her. With is moment she continued, nodding her head to the mountain that shadowed them.

"Our forces could charge as a distraction while we go through the mountains."

"But we lost contact with an entire squad on that path, it is too risky." Cassandra countered, eyeing the mountain.

"Have you two gone mad?" Rodrick exclaimed, causing Leliana and Cassandra to turn back to him.

"Listen to me. Abandon this now, before more lives are lost." he pleaded with the Seeker, hoping that she would see reason.

The Breach thundered again, green light flowing from it's opening and firing more fireballs at the ground. The pain was still there, but this time Ashila managed to stay upright and rooted, simply clutching her pulsating hand and gritting her teeth silently. She looked up, her teeth clenched and she hissed at the Chancellor,

"If we leave this to fate, then there will be more than just our deaths that will come of this madness."

Rodrick remained focused on the burning light on her palm, visibly gulping down the lump in his throat.

"I don't want to be here anymore than you, damnit. But even I see there is no running from this!" she spat, glaring up at the Breach. She hated it: these people, that hole in the sky, her very possible death that was caused because her damn Keeper sent her on this reconnaissance as a final act for the clan…

She felt sick. She had no control, and no way to get her bearings…

"How do you think we should proceed?"

Ashila was ripped from her thoughts that left her hands shaking (thankfully the baggy leathers were also too long and covered her hands). She looked up to Cassandra, blinking back any fears that could have been there, instead frowning at her, cocking her head in a manner that clearly said 'what have you been smoking?'

"Excuse m- what? You're, asking me for my opinion on the matter?" she sputtered.

"Well, you _are _the one with the Mark." Ashila glared over at Solas.

"You are also the one we must keep alive. Since we cannot agree on our own…"

Ashila chewed on her lip. She was tired, her mind was heavy. But she looked into the eyes of all who stood there, and they all looked back, all waiting for her decision.

They needed her to be the decider, and all she was doing was feeling sorry for was a hunter, not some blithering maiden. She was and _is_ best of her clan. She was feared, yes, but respected for her prowess, her tactical mind. Her mismatched eyes flashed, narrowing in thought as she looked to the valley, then the mountain.

"Right… let's get started."

* * *

><p>What did you think? I really enjoyed this chapter, for reasons of course hehehe. Please tell me what you think or just simply like and follow! Have a great day!<p> 


	5. Chapter 4: Into The Mines And The Breach

I just got word from an employer that I have been accepted for a really great job back in my hometown of Washington! This means that next week I will be traveling and might not be able to update as scheduled, so I will put out Chapter 4 early! Please enjoy!  
>Do not own Inquisition, maybe I get Ashila blah blah<p>

* * *

><p>Chapter 4: Into The Mines and To The Breach<p>

After some consideration, Ashila had chosen the mountain pass as their route to the Breach. Though Cassandra did not approve much of the decision, she had followed with a silent nod, while Varric had been openly joyous about the endeavor. On their journey through the mountain they had come upon and old mining complex, whose chains still creaked from the weight of the metal baskets they carried.

Ashila had took one look at the place and had to stop herself from just turning around and going back down the mountain. Unfortunately, appearances are a must when you're trying to not get beheaded… so they continued into the belly of the mountain.

It was cavernous and dark, and old musty smell hung in the air that had not been disturbed for many years, save for the companions and the demons that had somehow began to inhabit it.

When they were not dispersing the said demons, they walked slowly and cautiously, Ashila trying to not jump out of her skin and the echoing sounds in the blackness that were not their footfalls.

No one said a word, and when they did it was spoken in hushed whispers. Everyone felt the same thing: this place was all kinds of fucked up.

They had stopped midway (they hoped) through the tunnels in a small room that was walled off on all sides, save for a small doorway- an easy choke point if demons should arrive. Cobwebbed corpses littered the small room, and after they were picked clean of the remains, the small torch was lit and they sat for a breather, partaking in the dried venison Varric had stocked up on back at the forward camp.

The meal was not in any way satisfying, but it took the edge of the stabbing hunger Ashila had been fighting for hours, giving it something to feast on besides her already unsettled belly.

Another plus to their resting place was the small trove of loot and weapons they had found in a forgotten chest. A pair of stiletto daggers had been tucked away at the bottom underneath the griffon shield they had found (given to Cassandra). Though they were dusty from lack of use, they still held their bite she noted, nicking her thumb as she ran it down the blade. she pocketed the daggers she had previously in her knapsack, placing the new daggers in their holders.

They continued on a few minutes later, none of them wishing to stay in one spot while echoing growls and wails reverberated off the walls of the cavern. By now their eyes had grown accustomed to the blackness, but they still remained close to the walls, finding safety in the stone and knowing eventually, it would lead out of the mountain.

Hopefully.

"This place is endless." murmured Varric as they came across another dead end.

"I thought dwarfs were supposed to be at home in the underground.?" Ashila whispered back, peeking around the corner, searching for any demons.

"Most, yes. Not this dwarf, rather be outside with the hole in the sky than fumbling around waiting for my ass to get clawed off."

Ashila pursed her lips, raised her eyebrows, and nodded to herself: the dwarf definitely had a point.

Some time later, the tunnel began to brighten, the cool blue of the outside bringing light and color to the black stone and forgotten halls. Ashila breathed in the crisp winter air, fresh and alive and worlds better than the mustiness of the air trapped in the cave.

The relief of freedom was short lived as her eyes rested on the bodies of the scouts scattered about the exit of the cave.

"Guess we found the soldiers." Varric sighed, pressing his index finger to the throat of a young woman, bowing his head when there was no pulse.

Cassandra looked at the three still bodies, pondering.

"This cannot be all of them."

Varric looked up, his eyes hopeful.

"So the others could be holed up ahead?"

"Our priority is the Breach, unless we seal it soon, no one is safe." Solas countered, pointing to the twisting green light attached to the Breach. The mountain pass certainly did it's job: the Temple was no more than a thirty minute walk ahead.

"That is the gal with the glowing hand's job, but who is to say the soldiers are not on the way to the Breach?"

Ashila stared up at the Breach, silent as her companions talked. The Breach WAS the priority, Solas was correct. But it did not sit well with her knowing she had the power to save the soldiers and she ignored their plight.

_We could just follow the path to the Temple, and if they happen to be within eye or earshot, it wouldn't hurt straying from the path to help them. _she thought, nodding her head at the resolution she made.

She began her trek down the mountain, rolling her eyes as the others continued to bicker and not pay attention to her descent. It was only after a minute of walking did she hear the others hurriedly catch up, finally realizing she had started on ahead without them.

The sounds of battle slowly overtook the winter silence. The group broke out into a sprint, rounding the corner to see the remaining soldiers fighting demons near another Rift.

"Hurry! We have to do something." Ashila commanded, springing off her foot and flying to the battle. Arrows and magic bolts accompanied her rush, striking down the wisps in her way towards the Rift. Stopping in front of the hovering crystal, she raised her left hand and concentrated, falling into a focus that was starting to become a natural thing for her.

And she felt the release near, the final thread that connected the Rift to her world, but her concentration was severed by blinding white pain. She gasped, eyes shut in great suffering as the Greater Shade rose before her, biting, black oozing talons sinking deep into the bandage over her still healing right thigh. The fresh skin tore anew,the blood and muscle fibers tainted by the poison in the claws. Her breath tore through her in a strangled gasp that caught the attention of her companions and drew their eyes towards her, watching in slow motions as she was brought to her knees, arms shooting out to meet the earth,

Ashila let her arms relax, pressing against the ground that rose to meet her and allowing her arms to bend to her the Greater Shade bowed down on her claws raised for a final strike, she heaved herself to the side, rolling her body from under the demon, stopping a short distance away breathless and disoriented.

The demons claws digged into the ground where ashila had fallen. The Greater Shade swiveled its veiled head and shrieked with a wild rage at her. Another came upon her, claws raising up to strike. She was out of breath and out of options, holding her wounded leg she closed her eyes, tensing and waiting for the strike to connect.

Instead a great steel shield came down upon her like a steel blanket, protecting her from the claws that scratched down the armor sending sparks flying and a shrill sound from the friction.

Ashila looked up to the face of the warrior herself, her face scrunched in concentration, absorbing the impact of the demon with all her guard. The Rift cracked on itself, just as

Cassandra, upon watching Ashila fall from her wound, had broken out into a full sprint for the elf, abandoning the struggle between the demon she had been threw her arm out, reaching with all her might to surround the elf and have enough room to defend herself was well, bracing the shield for the impact.

"Finish the seal! Close that blasted thing!" she ground out, muscles straining to keep the shield propped up against the demon . Ashila raised her palm again, slowing her breathing to find that space within her that now was bonded with the vibrant blue of Solas' spell shield sprang to life from the corner of her eye as she focused, it boosted Cassandra's defence to help her block off the demons as Varric let arrows fly into their backs and heads.

The Rift then cracked in half just as Cassandra growled under the force of the demon. It caved in on itself, twisting inward and dragging the demons back into the Fadle with a whirlwind and a loud snap.

After a brief moment to breath, Solas rushed over to the still huddled women. Her peered into Ashilas eyes, before lowering them to inspect the wound on her thigh.

"Sealed, as before. You are becoming quite proficient at this."

He raised his brows at her as he gently pressed the burning flesh around the bloody wound. She hissed in response that pain sharp from the touch, causing him to frown.

"You might not think that the Breach will kill you, but scares like that with demons as another matter entirely." Ashila flushed red and angry, her black and white gaze focused on Solas alone.

"Wha- _excuse me? _" her fury bolstered by the adrenaline that still pumped through her system from the fight.

He silenced her with a look and bit his tongue, jaw working to keep the childish retort in check. Instead he ripped at the cloth on his right cuff, tearing off a srip. He then reached into his pack, pulling out an ice-green paste that he applied into the wound. She hissed at the ice like tingling sensation the paste was having on her gash. Solas looked at the wound for another moment, before sighing unhappily and wrapping it up in the torn cloth.

"It seems to be infected, we must get you proper medical attention upon the return to Haven after we sort out the Breach."

"And let's hope the big one can be closed." Varric added, helping a soldier to his feet.

Cassandra had run over to a woman, who must have been the commander of the squad, and bent to help her up.

"Thank the Maker you finally arrived, Lady Cassandra. I don't think we could have held out much longer."

Ashila stood, a secret smile at the corner of her lips hearing the relief and gratitude of the woman. She turned herself away, hiding that small tug on her mouth beneath a veil of white hair, gently cradling her thigh in her hand as she made to walk quietly away as to not be noticed.

"Do not thank me, Lieutenant, you must thank our prisoner. She insisted we come this way."

A circuit buzzed out in her brain. Ashila blinked rapidly and froze in place, then turned her head towards them, not quite understanding what she just heard.

Cassandra's eyes bugged out at Ashilas stupefied face. Exasperated at her companion, she raised her hands at her,

"You ordered us through the deserted mine, through which Varric nearly fell off an edge- (a small grunt of disapproval was heard) to get us to the Breach."

Ashila opened her mouth slightly, flushing deeply before nodding and turning around, horrified at her escaping mind.

That Poison worked fast- that is what she could blame it on.

A groan was heard before Cassandra continued, "Regardless, she is the one that saved you."

The Lieutenant stared at her in disbelief, not only from what she just witnessed, and the fact she had recognized them taking her back, unconscious and in chains to Haven.

Red, but having regained some sort of sense, Ashila sheepishly grinned,

"All in a days work?"

Shit.

She did not mean it as a as she tried to take them back the words slipped out from her lips she heard the laugh covered cough of Solas trying to hide the amusement from her further attempts to successfully shame herself. _Oh Creators of the world_, she walked off in haste, face deepening a shade. Varric all the while, was in a silent seizure of laughter, pleasantly surprised to see the elf had some character to her.

She missed out on the Lieutenant smiling, despite her embarrassment, watching her walk off with a curious eye.

"If you can, convey our gratitude to the elf." she said to the Seeker.

Cassandra looked at her for a moment, then nodded. She then explained to her how to make their way down from where they had cut through. After she was satisfied with her retelling of her instructions did she bid farewell and walked up to the elf, who was a few shades lighter by now.

"If not for the choice you made, those scouts would have perished, forgotten on this accursed mountain trail." Ashila said nothing, but Cassandra saw the small smile that played on her mouth, not to mention the wiggle of her long ears. "I did not agree with the choice. But I cannot deny the results. Thank you."

At this Ashila looked to Cassandra, head tilted to the side. Her brows were raised slightly and she was chewing the bottom of her lip, unsure of how to respond.

She did not quite know how to deal with this, this- _thankfulness. _It was not an emotion she associated with her various meddlings and actions. b=But the faces of the soldiers- tired and relieved, and Cassandra's obvious joy at seeing they still lived thanks to their actions: she could not deny the warm pooling in her stomach that had her heart feeling so light.

It felt good.

So she nodded silently, expressing her agreement, eyes warm and happy they had left Cassandra blinking, wondering if she had indeed seen a soft look on the elf before she turned to face the Breach.

Solas and Varric had wandered ahead, looking down the path for any sign of the enemy that they might face going forward.

There appeared to be none, for once.

After checking to ensure packs were stored away and injuries were healed,they began their pace anew. Though the wound on Ashila's leg continued to stain the cotton red, refusing to coagulate because of the poison, she kept silent, not wanting the party to slow further as the Breach loomed even closer, even though her head was starting to fog a little and her pace slowed.

The group slid down a pair of ladders that were flush against the stone, hopping down into a trail of steps that had been covered by fresh snow, the trail obviously forgotten. They walked silently along the path, breaths coming out in small foggy puffs from the cold when they came upon more stone, lit with fiery brazzers that somehow still burned after the explosion.

Ahead, the sight before them had the group frozen in place, taking in the temple remains.

If you could even call it "remains". The Temple had been obliterated, what rubble was there had been consumed by a… _thing _that was not of Thedas.

Stalagmites as big as towers loomed ahead, jutting out of the ground like horrifying spiers. They were a sickish black color, with veins of pulsating green that glowed eerily like corrupted vessels. Ashila did not know if it was the poison addling her brain or if everyone else felt it, but the spires seemed to hum with magic. But Ashila had been in the presence of magic since her time as a sprite; magic felt alive and light, this reeked of foul thoughts and hunger.

They walked the perimeter of the spires, searching for a way in. Solas paused beside Ashila, his eyes drawing hers. What she saw had her mouth drop slightly.

"The Temple of Sacred Ashes." He said quietly, gazing out to the broken bits of wall, glass and rafter lay, the blast had gone off with such a force that it forced most of the rubble into the ear, sinking it, and had ripped trees clean off their roots.

"What's left of it." Varric breathed, looking up at the mass that cast a shadow over him.

Ashila stepped forward slowly, feeling the heat of the boiling rock underfoot. The smell of old burning flesh clogged her nostrils, tongue lodged over her throat to keep from gagging. They slowly walked past the charred bodies of those not incinerated by the blast, their bodies frozen in the positions they were left cowering in as the fire burned them alive.

"This… they say that I survived _this?_" Ashila asked aloud, arms spread wide open and fighting the panic she felt. _This _was too much.

Cassandra nodded, her steadfast gaze was akin to a splash of cold water bringing her back some of her sense.

"Further in is where you walked out of the Fade, and our soldiers found you."

Ashila stared at Cassandra for a moment, appearing to have short circuited.

"Right. Well,"

Unable to really comprehend or deny what had transpired in last couple hours, she simply said _fuck it._ This was going to be a normal thing, she knew it. With that conclusion, the stepped to the destruction in front of her, spotting a small passage in the rubble, and indicated the group to follow.

She had taken that a lot better than Cassandra thought she would. She looked over to the dwarf and elf that were still processing their companions reaction, shrugging and following her down into the rubble.

They stepped around the corner to face the Ground Zero: the heart of the destruction.

Charred bodies lay strewn about, their mouths open in a silent scream made horrifying due to their skin and lips being melted off, revealing blackened teeth and charred muscle. The area was surrounded in the strange jutted rock and aglow with a faint green that emitted from the veins in the rock. Down a small flight of stairs was the center of it all, bare of any debris or life, save for the massive Rift that floated in its horrific crystallized splendor. From it, a ghostly green trail was seeping up from the crystal and hanging in the air, leading up and up to the thundering green void in the sky.

They had reached the Breach.

"The Breach is a long way up." Varric commented, neck craning up to see the Scar in the sky.

Ashila nodded in agreement, warily looking about. They place was, surprisingly, devoid of demons. She did not know if she should see this as a reprieve, or a calm before the storm.

She heard the shuffling of metal clashing together in great numbers. Turning sharply, she saw that the warriors that had struck out on the main path with Leliana had arrived behind them.

Leliana looked over them, relief spreading across her face at the sight and immediately jogging over.

"You made it. Thank the Maker."

Cassandra turned, nodding towards her friend.

"Leliana, take your men and have them set up positions around the temple." She ordered, pointing in locations. As the soldiers rushed around them, orders received Cassandra turned sharply, pointing her finger at Ashila with a fire in her eyes.

"This is your chance to prove yourself and end this. Will you do this? Are you ready?"

"Yes, of course. But-" Ashila pointed to the sky, "How exactly am I supposed to get up there?"

"To affect the Breach, we must first deal with the Rift." Solas pointed to the large Rift below them, drawing Ashila's attention. "This Rift was the first, and it is the key. Seal it, and I believe you will seal the Breach."

The group started for the staircase, when a voice, distorted by echos and time, broke the silence.

_Now is the hour of our victory._

Consciously, Ashila did not know this deep and gravelly voice nor who it belonged to. But it filled her with a great fear that had her shaking even more so with the poison seeping in her veins. Her heart was trying desperately to flee out of her chest, and her breaths came in short bursts from the adrenaline, but she had not one fucking clue as to why she was having a reaction like this.

_Bring forth the sacrifice._

One horrifying thought shot through her mind: maybe she was the only one hearing the voice. That the poison had finally begun to drive her mad- and soon she would lose all sense of her self.

"What are we hearing?"

"At a guess, the person who created the Breach."

Ashila let out a long and shaky breath that she had been holding in during her silent panic.

Cassandra and Solas had heard it too, they had all heard it.

Her mind was not lost, not yet.

You would think that, in the mountains, the ruins of the Temple would be as cold as the rest of the valley, even despite the destruction. But no snow touched the remains nor the spires, and the cold was abated by the smothering heat that seemed to radiate from them, causing steam to rise from the deformed rock. Ashila knew it was freezing, snow fell endlessly in the valley, but she found herself sweating from how stifling the ruins were. It certainly did not help her state of mind, for the poison was working faster now, thanks to the sweltering temperature, making her head light and her feet heavy.

The Breach also killing her slowly did not help the matter, but that went without saying.

They walked slowly down the spiral steps, taking extra care to stay as far away from the spires as possible, the veins glowing to life as they passed did nothing to ease their worry. With all the green that surrounded them, when the glow of red caught Ashilas eye, she could not help but turn to it. Red crystals growing out from the rock floor of the temple and the stalagmites overhead.

She resisted the urge to move closer, to examine, for she had never seen such a crystal in her life, but Varric had seized her arm, yanking her back to him and out of her thoughts with violent strength. Ashila turned to glare at him, but the scowl faded from her face when she saw the look of shock on his usually easygoing face. He looked sick, upset, and locked in a memory that haunted his waking hours.

"You do know this stuff is Red Lyrium, Seeker?" he croaked, tongue moistening his lips as he continued to stare.

Cassandra walked by the glowing lyrium slowly, each step taken with thought behind it while she glared at the red, its ominous light reflecting in her eyes/

"I see it, Varric."

"That is great that you see it, really. But what is it doing _here?_"

Varric snapped back, following the Seeker and indicating for the two other elves to follow.

Solas walked ahead of Ashila, but followed more slowly, observing the Lyrium, but not touching. This forced Ashila to slow her pace, inspect the crystals as did the older elf.

"What is this, Solas?" she murmured to him , watching his brow wrinkle, eyes focused on the lyrium in a thoughtful gaze.

"Old. Evil. I would be mindful of it." He said back to her, putting his arm out in front of her chest and pushing, forcing her to step away from the lyrium. He then continued to walk on, speaking his thoughts aloud.

"Magic could have drawn on the lyrium that was beneath the Temple, corrupting it…"

"It is evil, Glow." Varric snapped, he looked back at Ashila and added, "Whatever you do, don't touch it."

It wasn't that Ashila wanted to touch it- really, she didn't. But something in her head, a small little thing that easily hid whenever she tried to think on it, kept whispering at her to touch it, know it. Ashila shook her head; she had heard of those who took lyrium (the normal kind) regularly began to hear voices as a side effect, but to hear such things and never having taken lyrium in her life…

Ashila spared one last glance at the lyrium before hurrying to catch up with her companions. What she _did _know was that nothing was right here, and something needed to be done to fix it. None of what was here was right, and she had some power to make it right.

Whatever that was.

They had rounded on the last flight of stairs when the distorted voice called out again, halting their steps and causing them to reach for their weapons on instinct.

_Keep the sacrifice still._

The hairs on the back of Ashila's neck prickled again, but she was ready for the bubble of fear that would come and clamped down on it hard.

She would not fear a ghost.

At least, that is what she was going to do, until another voice called out through the mist:

_Someone, help me!_

A woman's voice, full of fear and pain, she was crying out, voice raw from screaming for so long. It made Ashila's stomach twist and writhe.

It also had left Cassandra reeling, her face as white as Ashila's hair.

'That is Divine Justinia's voice!"

Cassandra broke out into a sprint, hopping down the small ledge to the bare ground. As the others hurried to join her, she looked around wildly, looking for any sign of the Divine she had just heard calling out for help.

But there was no one.

"But…" Cassandra looked around, eyes stitched with worry. "But her voice. It was like she was with us."

The Rift's crystals shuddered, Ashila felt her palm lighting up and the pain shooting through her arm, but merely frowned and forced her hand to keep still.

_Someone, help me!_

The voice of the Divine rang out in the clearing again, emanating from the crystal, but then a new voice accompanied it:

_What's going on here?_

Ashila blinked a few times, registering the accented voice in her head and noting that it sounded very familiar.

Wait.

"That was your voice." The confusion in Cassandras face reflected her own, " Most Holy called out to you, but…"

The Rift pulsed again. Ashila had to grit her teeth and dig her nails into her palm to keep the Mark in check. She was breaking out in a cold sweat again, and her hands felt clammy. She had an hour and a half most before she got too sick to move, but that was a best guess estimate. Above them, the Rift brought forth an image, fuzzy and not altogether there, but what had transpired before the explosion must have left such an emotional link to the place that the Rift was able to bring forth some of the events that had occurred.

Before them a figure, masked in darkness with eyes as red as the lyrium that was scattered about. He stood tall, and bowing before him was the Divine, bound by magical ties.

The weirdest part was Ashila watching herself run from the side towards the two. The 'her' in the memory still had her black hair, tied up in a neat ponytail with not a hair out of place, but she had to force herself to not criticize her appearance (the loose leathers being only the tip of the iceberg) and instead listen to what was going on.

The memory Ashila rushed into the area where the Divine and the dark being stood, she was panting from exhaustion and yelled out in a demanding voice,

_What's going on here?!_

The Divine craned her neck over to her, still bound in place, and cried out to her:

_Run, while you can! Warn them!_

The dark being spared Ashila a glance, categorizing her as a meddling elf and causally saying to whoever was there with them:

_We have an intruder. Kill the elf. Now._

The Rift flashed again, and the scene faded, leaving the group stunned- with some questions answered, but many more to ponder.

Cassandra was the first to recover. Staring at Ashila she bombarded her with questions, voice betraying the confusion and rage that had no focus, no target.

"You _were _there!"

"I guess-" Ashila started to say, but Cassandra continued.

" Who attacked? And The Divine, is she…?"

"I don't-"

" Is the vision true?"

"May-"

"What are we seeing?"

""Mythal's tits, woman! I don't remember." Ashila cried out throwing her arms in the air. Cassandra effectively cut off, had the decency to look somewhat apologetic of her outburst, but she still brimmed with energy seeking, an outlet.

Ashilas eyes were drawn to the Rift floating above her.

It was at least triple the sizes of the Rifts she had faced previous, It was a huge mass before her,the sheer size bringing forth a wave of dizziness to Ashilas brain. But it allowed her eyes to see closer into the true opening of the Fade, and the reason this particular Rift was silent as the grave,demons not charging forth.

The opening of the Rift had been haphazardly closed. It looked like a child's attempt of sewing two cloth pieces together: the folds were not evenly put together, and the stitching straining to hold the two together was done unevenly and at awkward angles. Closed but still letting things get through.

"It's… closed," she started, her mind processing the sight before her, "But it was a terrible job- not completed. It needs to be… redone?" Ashila looked back to her companions, eyes pausing on Solas.

"Echos of what happened here. The Fade bleeds into this place. It is as you say, it is not sealed, but closed… temporarily."

Ashila frowned, processing Sola's thoughts. "Do you think it could be opened gain?" Ashila questioned, a pondering dip in her eyebrows.

Solas blinked, surprised, but quickly overcame it with a slow smile.

"I believe it could, yes. I believe that the Rift could be opened again, and sealed properly and safely."

Ashila prayed silently that this solution did not come with a 'but' ending.

"But…"

Oh come on!

"Opening the Rift will likely attract attention from the other side."

Ashila closed her eyes, screaming internally. She felt dizzy and her eyes were heavy lidded, but she bit her lip hard and forced herself to nod at Solas, keeping the sickness at bay.

"That means demons. Stand Ready!"

The soldiers positioned themselves with Ashila and her companions, facing the Rift alongside them with steady gazes and weapons drawn.

The archers moved into position and Ashila closed her eyes, calming herself and drowning out the noise of armor, the feel of the poison in her blood, and the uncertainty in her mind.

Shaking out her jitters, she rolled her neck with a satisfying pop looking on either side to her companions, who stood ready.

"Right. Let's dance."

Varric's bark of laughter was loud, causing Ashila to smile despite her fears. It gave her the strength she needed to raise her hand high and allow the Rift to connect with her.

Her hand filled with such pain that she forgot momentarily what she was supposed to do, It felt so hot and searing that her mind went white for a moment, and it was all she knew. But she fought against the numbing, accepted the pain, and imagined herself grabbing the two sides of the closed Rift. With all the mental strength she had, she willed the Rift be open.

And it ripped open with a crack of thunder, blasting the rocks beside them in fragments.

An arc of lightning shot out from the open Rift, hitting the ground in front of the companions. It flashed white, and the ground shook moments later as a Pride demon emerged from the Fade.

"Awe, mother fu-"

Ashila was cut off as the Pride demon opened its maw, unleashing a bellowing roar that brought all who were present to their knees.

It left Ashilas world spinning and ears ringing. She clamped her hands to her ears, trying in the hopes that her ears would not be blown to bits and flitted away from the demon as Cassandra raised her sword and charged with her soldiers.

The demon caught sight of Ashila dashing to it's left and with a trembling snarl lifted it's clawed hand high and swung down at her small form.

She saw it coming not a moment too soon. As the arm dropped low she jumped, legs high enough that the toes of her boots grazed the scales on its arm. But the force of it's swing blew Ashila off her balance, tumbling to the ground and rolling to a stop, coughing and sputtering. Her vision teetered back and forth along with her brain as she took a ragged breath and gathered her wits.

The Pride had moved to continue its assault of her, but a wave of arrows and the bashing of shields drew its attention. As she stood, the demon made it's move on Cassandra, clawing at her shield with such strength that Cassandra skidded back a few feet after a blow.

She rose, leaping into a run to reach the fight. The demon opened its arm wide, intending to strike Cassandra while she was recovering, but Ashila lept high, plunging her daggers deep into it's muscle as she flew the air, dragging her daggers along to create large gashes in the demons arm. The demon retracted, cradling its arm and roaring angrily at them.

Ashila came to a halt beside Cassandra, turning to the demon with a triumphant smirk on her face, expecting to see the creatures bones in the wound she had created.

Her brows knitted together and her mouth hung open instead. Her attack hadn't so much as mortally wounded the demon! It faced them, a low chuckle coming from deep in its chest as while it postured before them, daring them to strike. A whip of energy formed in it's claws. It gasped the end of the whip in a bone-crushing grip and raised it's hand back, bringing forth the whip to strike the ground like a viper striking prey.

Ashila, Cassandra, and Solas both dived out of the way of the whip, falling to the ground and hiding their faces as bits of rock splintered up into their eyes.

Varric had been standing further back, himself and Bianca firing shots into the beast, but as his companions fell he called out:

"Just an idea, really, but might we consider Plan B?"

"What the hell do you think is Plan B?" Ashila shrieked, rolling to the side in time to miss another blow from the electric whip.

"Just a thought!"

Ashila snarled and looked at the Rift, an idea forming. She forced herself back to her feet and began to sprint back to the frey, cloaking herself in the shadows as she went.

She ran till she was under the Rift, the ethereal strands of the Fade reaching through to brush her shoulders. She raised her left hand out as she did, screaming in pain as her Mark connected with the Rift, slowly sewing it closed.

The Pride demon fell to it's knees, it's connection to the Fade being interrupted by Ashila's meddlings, effectively cutting off it's power supply. The soldiers saw the opportunity and pounced upon the chance. Their swords and arrows plunged deep into the creatures hide, earning a roar of fury for their efforts.

But the pressure became too great for Ashila to bear, and her hand dropped, cutting off the connection from her Mark to the still unclosed Rift, and the demon stood proud once more, laughing at how the arrows now broke upon hitting its hard skin.

Ashila stumbled, kneeling to the ground and panting with effort. Her eyes were aflutter, barely open from the strain to keep them so, but she could see that the Rift was over halfway closed. A few moments longer would do the trick- but…

The wound in her thigh was growing black from the infection, and the effect of the Breach had taken most of her energy. She felt blood in her mouth when she coughed, no doubt from some inner body part being eviscerated, and her mind was fighting back unconsciousness.

Gasping short breaths, her glassy eyes watched as the remaining soldiers fought the demon. They hacked at the demons skin, but for all their strength and moral it was like a tick bite to the demon.

Her team was battered and bloody, Cassandra sporting a head wound and Varric limping out of the range of the demons fists. Even Solas showed signs of weariness, his hands blackened from the soot and blistered from gripping his staff so tightly. Now wielding fire, Solas shot flame after flame at the demon, tearing through the last of Pride's guard so that the soldiers could get through again. Solas turned, shouting at her something unintelligible to her ears. He looked almost at home in the battle, relaxed as she had ever seen him. But she saw the fear in his eyes. She knew on some level what he was said but, Creators, she was just so tired…

Cassandra turned as well, shouting with Solas, both of their voices lost to the ringing in Ashilas ears. Ashila groaned, lifting her heavy head to stare into the green beyond of the Rift.

"O-one more time. One more…" she gasped, lifting her hand and letting it hang in mid air as the connection was restored in full, keeping it aloft.

The demons strength left it once again, and it was unable to fend off the full force of the soldiers, slowly fading back into the Rift while it fought to stay tethered to their world.

The tear was closing, sewing itself back together with an invisible needle, but her eyes were filling with black spots, mind going black.

_Please, just a little more… _she thought weakly, forcing her arm to stay outstretched despite the screaming in her blistering palm.

The Rift sputtered, green sparks spraying out from where the last of the hole remained, sewing shut even as her vision started to turn black. They all looked on, holding breaths as the Rift locked with a small pop, then sending forth a wave that blew Ashila's kneeling body right to the ground.

As the last of her vision faded, Ashila gazed at the sky, breaths coming soft and labored. The calm blue had returned to the heavens, but a crystal of green jutted out, blocking the sky from her sight, and a great vortex, swirling of black and green, remained still in the sky.

_No…_

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><p>Have a great weekend folks!<p> 


	6. Chapter 5: Center of Attention

HOORAY! I thankfully was able to post this before I begin my travel back to Washington! I worked really hard to ensure I could! I hope you enjoy and hopefully I'll be able to give you all another chapter next Saturday! If not please don't kill meeeee D:

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><p>Chapter 5: The Problematic Center Of Attention<p>

When Ashila's mind began to surface from it's deep coma, the faint sound of townsfolk life filled her ears. Having lived in the woods of the Graves and the plains near the outskirts of the Wilds, she was used to the sounds of wind in the grass, or the running water in little streams. Accompanying the symphony of nature was the occasional choir of birds, their tunes soprano to alto; and if you listened carefully you could hear the rumble of something much fiercer- a deep bass.

So when her music became the marching of feet and faint ringing of swords in the distance, the voices not soft, but hoarse and raw from so much use, her mind began to rouse at greater urgency, a need to know where in Mythals murdered name she was.

Her consciousness climbed higher, and the rush of feeling that came with wakening caused her to groan in pain. She felt like she had been hammered out by Iron Bark from ear tip to toes, her head throbbing sluggishly, teetering on the verge of giving her a headache. And her thigh was on _fire_. It ached with such a heat, moving the limb was like moving a log.

Ashila brought her hand to her head, covering her eyes to spare them from full light exposure, she allowed her eyes to peel back.

The room was small and warmly lit. The fire burned well, the sound like a cork popping coming from the crackling wood, the light from the hearth reflecting in the dark room- enough light to see and not enough to hurt her delicate eyes. The bed she had been placed on was small, meant for only one, the carvings in its wood of leaves and Andraste as the headpiece was very finely done, as was the quilt that was sewn together with many patches of different colored cloths.

Her eyes adjusted and she managed to tilt her head off the pillow, finally able to see the damaged caused to her incapacitated self.

"Really…?" She groaned softly, staring at the bandages that spanned the planes of her small body.

The amount of bandages made he look ready for burial, rather than one who survived battle. Already irritable with how long she must have been unconscious, Ashila lifted her torso up by her elbows, groaning from the protests of her body as she finally sat up. She was able to properly examine her leg now. She peeled back the layers of cloth that hid the wound, some was yellow with dried pus, others had blood seeped into the fibers, but as she pulled away the last of the dressing she saw her leg was healing just fine, the wound shining with a salve that had been put on not long ago.

It still looked as grisly as it had been when she received the wound in the Fade, but it was no longer black with poison, a sign that it had been removed from her body and that she had not been asleep long.

Her hand hummed, causing her to wince, the wooden walls shone briefly with a flicker of green from the Mark that still remained on her palm, a testament to her failure to close the breach. She refused to look at it, hating the blemish with every bit of her small self.

Instead, she set her mind to getting herself back on her feet. She had tried to swing her legs around to the side of the bed, but they had protested in such a painful way that had Ashila cursing the Wolf's name the entire time. Instead she settled for grabbing her legs and swinging them over the edge, a course of action that took forever to do and left her sweating from the exertion.

The bed was not high by any standard, a regular human bed when you looked at it, but the tips of Ashila's toes barely kissed the floor, a testament to her vertically challenged nature. It had been one of the many things that the adolescents in the clan had teased her about. Most of the girls grew into tall and willowy teens, Ashila maybe grew another head before stopping completely, leaving _everyone _ to tower over her in mockery of her shortcomings.

"Well this _Fen' Vhenan, _" she spat, steeling herself to stand as she talked to the dancing shadows on the wall, "Was the better hunter, the scout, and the rouge. The best any of those damn superstitious bastards could do was notch arrows and tell addled stories. And they did not do even those small things right!" gripping the wooden frame of the bed, she lifted herself to her feet, which shook under the weight. Her nails dug into the lacquered wood as she fought her legs to stand tall, and after a moment the shaking subsided. She smiled triumphantly.

There was a mirror on the opposing wall in a simple wooden frame. Ashila had the misfortune of looking into it, what looked back would have made her burst into laughter.

If it wasn't her.

Her hair was matted and caked with dried blood and mud, sticking out at odd angles from lack of washing and from how she slept. Her face was equally dirty. Though some color had returned to it and the bags under her eyes had cleared up, she still had visible scratches and caked blood flaking off every time her face twitched. She was in clean clothes, but what was the point of this when she still looked and smelled like she had been rolling around in an Alienage!

_By the Creators, I would kill for a bath._

She forced her eyes from the hideous reflection on the wall, concentrating instead on moving to the living room of the cottage.

Blowing hair from her eyes, she focused hard, willing her leg to lift.

Her step was uneven, trembling on the wood and she fought hard to keep her balance. But her concentration was interrupted as the oak door swung wide, a serving girl entering. Both girls jumped at the sight of each elvhen lass clasping her mouth to muffle her shriek and Ashilas unsteady leg shook so violently that. it sent her tumbling to the floor.

"Ah, Milady, forgive me!" the girl gasped, rushing to Ashila's groaning heap. After detangling the limbs, the elf put Ashila's arm over her shoulder, taking her weight, and helping her to her feet.

"Oh, please understand," she stammered as Ashila steadied herself on her own feet, "I didn't know you were awake, I swear!"

"All is well, all is well,"Ashila muttered, nursing the growing bruise on her cheek from where her face met the floor. "Nothing is too damaged."

_Save my pride. _

A sound of rushing cloth caused Ashila's ears to perk up, alert. She turned her head to see the elf girl falling to her knees, bowing in reverence towards her.

"I beg your forgiveness and your blessing, I am but a humble servant."

Ashila stared at the girl, seriously contemplating the amount of drugs they might have put in the girl to make her that deranged.

Or she was still asleep, and she had received the drugs and this was a very twisted dream.

She prayed for the latter.

"You are back at Haven, Milady." The girl continued, still genuflecting before her.

"So I am not asleep, drugged, or dead?" She asked dumbly, her minds gears stull creaking from rust.

The elf looked up, shocked,

"Nay, Milady," Ashila wanted to slap the poor girl. "Though you came close to. They say you saved us. The Breach stopped growing, just like the Mark on your hand."

Ashila jerked her head to her left palm, opening it with grim hesitation. The Mark gleamed ominously back at her. Ashila frowned, despite her unease. In truth, the last time she had looked at it before opening the Breach's Rift, it had began to encompass her hand. Now it was a simple slit in the palm of her hand, wide enough to look like the iris of a dragon.

She looked back to the elf (still kneeling, Creators preserve us!) who was gazing at her with such awe that she wished she could disappear without getting shot on sight.

"It's all anyone's talked about for the last three days." she finished, large eyes boring into her. Ashila groaned, rubbing her eyes, she had woken up not thirty minutes ago and already her nerves were frayed.

"By Andruil's pretty bow... and they are happy? With me?" Ashila gagged, staring back at the elf girl from between her cool fingertips. She had not succeeded! She had expected her living till now was on ceremony before public execution.

"That is only what I heard. I didn't mean any disrespect by it, Milady"

So, the current mood wasn't torches and pitchforks. Better odds.

The serving girl got to her feet, rubbing her hands together nervously and her eyes shifting. " I'm certain Lady Cassandra would want to know you've wakened. She said 'At once."

The servant began to do the backwards shuffle towards the door. Ashila thrusted her hand from her face, signaling the girl to halt.

"Wait, wait, wait. By the Wolf, _please _wait!" The girl stopped, eyes like wide like a pups to Ashila's exasperated knotted brow.

"I need a bath," She stated, gesturing _to all of herself_. The girl must have only then noticed her unkempt appearance, and Ashila swore she saw the girls nose wrinkle slightly from the smell. She wanted desperately to be insulted- but the girl had every reason too. She smelled like the ass end of a deepstalker.

The girl nodded, "Ay, Milady, at once."

"And _please_ stop calling me that." Ashila snapped after her, but the girl paid her no mind as she set to work grabbing a copper washing basin. She heated up the water in the time that it took Ashila to hobble over to her in the center of the room, by then she was able to walk properly, but was stiff and sore.

"I would suggest waiting a moment, Milady. The water is quite hot and-" The girl looked up only to turn away, blushing. Ashila had already started to strip down, tearing and the bandages around her while unsteadily reaching towards the tub.

"I prefer the heat, have no fear. Thank you for this." Ashila said, waving the girls objections aside, only wanting solitude during her brief moment of relaxation.

The girl was all to happy to leave, both at being embarrassed at Ashila's naked self and the need to go see her superior. Before stepping out the door, she turned back to Ashila, calling out to her:

"Lady Cassandra will be at the Chantry, with the Lord Chancellor." She then left.

As soon as the door creaked shut, Ashila then lifted herself into the scalding hot water with a pleased sigh. As a Dalish, she was used to bathing in rivers and lakes, the cold of the waters never much bothering her save for the gooseflesh that pickled her skin. But when she could indulge, she would bathe in water so hot others would consider her mad for willingly basking in its heat. Sinking in, she arched her back, resembling a pleased cat, as her skin tingled from the heat from her small breasts to the soles of her feet. Her shoulders crumbled, releasing all the stress she had carried. Her thigh's ache of pain receded to a dull throbbing. Resting languidly, she let herself sink a little further, submerging her head till only her face remained above water. Her hands moved through to her water, reaching to her mass of tangled and dirtied hair. Slowly she gently ran her fingers through her locks, softly tugging at the knots till they yielded to her touch. The faintly heard the door open, but the watered distorted her hearing, and- quite frankly, she did not particularly care if they were friend or foe.

She would die in some form of peace, at least.

The dirt and blood dissolved as her hair began to wave out, becoming clean and fanning out in the with what her hands could do to clean her hair (she missed the lavender and pine mint oils her people had specialty in crafting), she moved to her body. She scrubbed hard with her nails, the grime crumbling off and graying the waters.

At least thirty minutes after, Ashila stood, her skin prickling and shivering at the mountain air that breathed through the cracks of the house.

Her eyes caught something white to her right. Turning she saw a pile of cloths on the seat in the corner, on top of them were towels.

Someone had entered during her cleansing (it was, she had been quite frightening), probably the serving girl again. She reached for the towel as she stepped out of the basin, wrapping it around her pale body. She reminded herself to thank the girl when she saw her again. Satisfied that her skin was dry, she moved the towel to her dripping hair. Drying it vigorously, she removed the towel from her head and turned to the mirror again, hoping that the image had improved somewhat.

Her hair was still plenty damp, while considerably drier from its time in the towel, but it now shown with a luster of silver that Ashila found very appealing. Her skin was now clear, save for the bruises and cuts around her forehead and cheek, but she at least looked presentable enough to pass in a small gathering. She frowned a little at the markings of her vallaslin, her dark tattoos a symbol of her clans patronage to Ghilan'nain, they would stick out like a sore thumb. She remembered the faces of all those villagers, silently glaring at her from all sides. She hoped that was not to be what she was facing at the Chantry...

For large gatherings, Ashila was never prepared for, and preferred the thought of killing a dragon than many eyes on her.

Ashila turned her attention to the pile of clothes neatly folded on the chair and frowned at them: these were not the leathers she had come to the conclave in. She lifted the dark leather coat, inspecting it with interest. It was sewn well, it would not tear well, and its under cloth was cream colored cotton. The long sleeved shirt was a dark blue, and pants a thick hide with cotton sewn inside.

Hope pushing her, she slipped into the pants, happily noting they fit her snugly, not too tight to chafe and not too loose to impair blue long sleeve did not cover her hands, instead resting neatly at her wrists, and the leather cloak hung to her ankles, and the belts fit her nicely.

She could not deny it- she was moved by the generous act. Turning slowly to watch her coat billow behind her, the relished in the feeling of having clothes that did not hang off suddenly stopped her admiring of her new armor to lock on the beaten up water sack on the chair accompanied by the daggers she had found in the mine.

"There you are!" she exclaimed, reaching for the old leather water skin and hugging it too her. It smelled of earth and familiarity, and she eagerly ripped out it's stopper to drink the liquid within.

Wine, dry and spicy burned down her throat, releasing a tension in her stomach she had forgotten was there. She took a couple more greedy sips before pulling away. Wiping droplets that had escaped the corners of her mouth, she re-corked her water skin, attaching it to her belt then strapping her daggers to their holsters on her back.

Ashila looked back to the mirror. Her hair had dried mostly, flowing in waves around her and her bangs framing her face. Her hair still curled in random directions, sticking out awkwardly and refusing to settle in no matter how many times she tried to smooth them out. Rolling her eyes at her wild reflection, she reminded herself that she had people waiting on her and walked over to the door. She frowned momentarily at the boots that waited for her before the door. The Dalish never wore boots, opting to run barefoot to feel the earth near their skin, or if it was ever cold, loose stockings on the winter nights.

But her people never ventured into the mountains. There the snow fell endlessly, and she was no mage who could keep her feet warm with the aid of magic. So she struggled for a moment to put on the boots so generously given to her, frowning at how stifling they were on her feet.

She opened the door, ignoring the world around her as she mused about what to expect at the Chantry. She turned to close the door quietly, not desiring attention, then with eyes still on the ground, turned back to the village.

When she lifted her eyes, the scene before her had her eyes bugging out and throwing her back to the door, willing herself to be absorbed into the oak.

The whole of Haven stood before her, filling the street. The villagers stood behind soldiers, all in full garb, silence hung over them so thickly that it pressed on Ashila's ears. The soldiers stood proud, facing her in a way that reminded her of processions she had read about. Some villagers stood while other bent at the knee to her. Children were held back by their parents, their young minds only able to grasp that their adults were focused on one point.

Each and every eye locked on her.

Her nails dug into the wood behind her, heart beating with a force to shatter her ribcage. She was thankful that she had a few sips of her liquid courage before stepping out the door, the small hum of the liquor keeping her from shadowing and running away. She remained still, her body frozen under their eyes. No one moved. They all waited, waited for Ashila to do something.

Ashila continued to pray that dragon would appear and swallow her whole.

The pressure had become intense. Ashila gulped the sick feeling down and took a shaky breath, slowly pushing herself away from the door. She took each step nervously, toes first and heel following for optimal reaction if someone so much as twitched in a way she thought threatening.

She nearly jumped out of her skin as the soldiers suddenly moved. But instead of reaching for swords, the held their fists to armored hearts, one by one moving back to part the crowd of villagers to make way for her. She moved again, ears low, walking slowly through the crowd, eyes forward to avoid all the eyes that gazed at her.

"That's her. That's the Herald of Andraste."

She paused mid step, the whisper catching her off guard. She turned to the sound, despite her reluctance, and gazed at the two farm boys that had been conversing. They gasped, taking in the sight of her mismatched eyes and quickly bowed their heads, ears red.

Ashila robotically turned her head forward, eyes locked and moved forward again, the whispering starting anew.

"They say when she came out of the Fade, Andraste herself was watching over her."

"Hush! We mustn't disturb her."

Her heart beat so loudly she assumed everyone could hear it in the silence, but she continued to move forward, silently thanking the woman who had cut the boys off.

The path of villagers and soldiers snaked up the steps of the village, guiding her to the Chantry. All around people stared and whispered gazing at her with awe, apprehension, and curiosity that it took all of her self control not to break into a sprint for the Chantry or back to the cottage she woke up in. Anything to get rid of the eyes! They made her sweat and shake and she really should have had more wine. She would have too, had she known she would need to face this. The only sign of her distress was red marks her nails were leaving when she dug them into her palm. She kept her head high and eyes forward, coat rustling in the breeze as she walked cautiously.

It was a clear day, the sun's light reflecting off the snow on the ground and in the thatched rooftops. It danced in her silver hair, which glowed with light that left many villagers blinking as she walked past. They regarded her with curiosity, many had never seen a Dalish elf in all their seasons. She walked with her back straight and shoulders firm, hair blowing to and fro in the light breeze. Her tattoo's were like a foreign fascination to them, but no one looked at her for long. Her strange eyes unfamiliar along with the rest of her, coupled with her significance they were overwhelmed. But many looked on even after she had passed, watching till she was gone from their sights. The whispering had since tripled, talks of how she was supposed to seal the Breach on some lips, others countering with the fact that she was the only one to really be able to do something about the accursed thing (to those people of the latter thoughts, she was grateful).

The sight of the Chantry was a relief to Ashila's poor heart. She quickened her pace, nodding awkwardly to the Sisters who literally gawked at her as she grasped the iron handles of the large door, pulling it open and hastily rushing inside.

Closing the doors, she leaned against it and closed her eyes, trying to slow her erratic heart. They had called her The Herald of Andraste. She was not Andrastean, not by any means. But she had never been put off by learning about the religion. When she snagged the occasional book from a farmers home, sometimes it was a book about the Chant of Light, or the Exalted march, and she had never put down a book due to it's subject. She knew exactly who Andraste was, and to be referred to as her Herald…

What made it even more unbelievable what the fact the humans were saying this about an elf!

She sighed, shoulder sagging from the mental baggage. Ashila wanted nothing more than to crawl back into the quilted bed she had woken up in and have a couple glasses of wine for a dreamless sleep.

_Can't always get what you want _she thought wearily, pushing away from the door and gazing around.

The inside of the church was dimly lit. Sacks and boxes lined the stone walls, small studies and confessionals in dark corners lit by candles and braziers. The main hall was lined with a red carpet, it's color faded and tassels fraying from years of being trodden on. It led to an inner sanctum that Ashila assumed was her destination. What confirmed her suspicions as she walked forward, was the loud arguing coming from the other side of the door.

"She should have been taken to Val Royeaux immediately, to be tried by whomever becomes Divine!"

_Oh, glorious, the political crow is still cawing for my head. _She mused, raising her eyebrows at the door.

"I do not believe she is guilty."

Cassandra's voice shot back at the Chancellor, surprising Ashila. Cassandra had so passionately assumed her guilt, and now she was protecting her from the noose?

Small miracles.

"The prisoner failed, Seeker."

Ashila had to agree with Roderick, albeit reluctantly. She had not failed to notice the green tear still hovering in the sky, dormant but still a threat.

"The Breach is still in the sky. For all you know, she _intended _ it this way."

She stood silently, glaring at a spot on the door where she imagined the Chancellor was. The desire to stick him with the pointy end of a dagger, tempting and hard to push away.

" I don't believe that."

"That is not for you to decide! Your duty is to serve the Chantry! Not to do what you 'believe' is correct!"

Cassandra spoke clearly, her voice calm but concealing her shortening temper towards Roderick.

"My _duty _ is to serve the principles on which the Chantry was founded, Chancellor. As is yours."

The word 'Chancellor' came from Cassandra's mouth soaking with so much sarcasm that Ashila had to stifle a small chuckle. Cassandra really was defending her, the thought eased some of the stress that she felt. Maybe an execution was not on the table any longer?

The two had seemed to reach a break in the argument. Ashila took this as the moment to steel herself and grip the door handle. As much as she appreciated Cassandra's change of heart over her, she was unable to remain on the other side of the door and let the slimy Chancellor slader her behind her back!

She opened the door as quietly as she could, but the iron hinges grinded and squealed that she had to close her eyes and quietly curse before slipping through the opening.

"Have I missed much?" she inquired, glancing at the two soilders standing guard at the doorway before looking over to the two familiar women and worm (the woman being Cassandra and Leliana), and glancing at the two unfamiliar persons standing to the side ( a man and a very exotic looking woman) before looking back to Cassandra.

Roderick looked over at her, his glare returned with her own. "Chain her! I want that elf to be prepared for travel to the capital for trial."

The shuffling of armor was heard behind Ashila. Her light expression turned hard as she raised her hands to her dagger before Cassandra spoke out.

"Disregard that and leave us."

Ashila watched from the corner of her eye as the soldiers remove their hands from the hilt of their swords, instead lifting to their hearts and bowing, filing out of the room and closing the whining door with a soft 'click'.

The Chancellor turned his glare back to Cassandra, sneering as he spoke:

"You walk a dangerous line, Seeker."

Cassandra was tall, even by human standards, so when she walked over to face Roderick eye-to-eye, she towered over him with a look that said she cared little for what he said.

"The Breach is stable, but it is still a threat. I will not ignore it." she spoke to him bluntly, having no need for pleasantries or sweet words.

Her blunt and very true statement, however, clenched Ashila's stomach in a guilty hold, reminding herself that she was supposed to have closed the accursed thing the first time.

She gritted her teeth. Ashila did all that she could to destroy it! The effort nearly cost her life in the process- a point that had seemed to go entirely unnoticed.

"So, I am still a suspect. Even after what we just went through?" she remarked coolly, looking from Leliana and Cassandra with hard eyes. She would not feel guilty when they still accused her of all this bullshit, even when she did so much to help.

Roderick, damn him, looked at her with vengeful glee.

"You absolutely are." Ashila's mouth twitched, a snarl barely held in check.

"No, she is not." Cassandra's voice was like a dousing of cool water over Ashila, the knot in her stomach immediately loosening. Rodericks words, though he spoke for 'The Chantry' meant little to her. Cassandra was the one with authority, so her decision brought great relief.

"Someone was behind the explosion at the Conclave. Someone Most Holy did not expect." Leliana said calmly, drawing eyes towards her as she walked. "Perhaps they died with the others- or have allies who yet live." She said this with a whisper of threat, looking towards Roderick with a calm, but brewing suspicion in her gaze.

Rodericks gob opened and closed in a moment of dumbfounded shock before sputtering:

"_I _am a suspect?"

Ashila grinned despite herself, watching Roderick deflate under Leliana's stare. The blonde soldier, who had been focusing on the discussion, caught the smile and her eye, coughed a few times, trying to hide his chuckle. It was a very poor attempt but no one seemed to notice as Leliana continued to stare at the Chancellor.

"_You. _As are many others." Leliana reaffirmed.

Roderick, outraged (he was always outraged, Ashila had begun to assume), pointed at her and growled back,

"But _not _the prisoner."

At this Cassandra spoke again, crossing her arms and glaring at the Roderick, daring him to cut her off.

"I heard the voices at the Temple. The Divine called to her for help."

Roderick looked from Ashila (still glaring at her with a will for her to be in chains, again), then to Cassandra.

"So her survival, that- _that thing on her hand_- all a coincidence?"

Ashila opened her mouth to tell the Chancellor a few choice words that would all amount to 'Obviously, you twat!', but Cassandra continued.

"Providence-" The single word jumped Ashila's heart into her throat, face going white.

_No. _The single word rang out through her mind, desperate for Cassandra to take it back.

"The Maker sent her to us in our darkest hour."

_Oh Creators , no! _Ashila felt sick.

"You do realize I am a _Dalish_ Elf." she pointed out faintly, hoping that this would break whatever glamor Cassandra and the _entire town _was under.

Cassandra frowned at her, disapproving of her comment, but continued strong: "I have not forgotten. No matter what you are, or what you believe, you are exactly what we needed when we needed it."

_Everyone has gone mad_ Ashila concluded, rubbing her eyes.

"The Breach remains, and your Mark is our only hope of closing it." Ashila looked over to Leliana, reluctantly nodding. Whether she believed their assumptions or not, she still was the only one with the power to do anything. The feeling of everyones hopes and lives suddenly crashed upon her and felt her knees going weak again.

"This is _not _for you to decide!" Roderick growled, but his eyes reflected a desperation. He feared what could happen, what might need to happen.

Cassandra had walked over to a small desk beside the blonde soldier. He nodded to her, silently handing her a large and old leather book. Cassandra turned and walked back to the group at the large table and brought the book down upon it with a loud 'thump'. On its cover was a silver sun, an eye in its center.

Cassandra looked to the Chancellor, his eyes still glued to the book, and pointed to it.

"You know what this is, Chancellor."

Roderick looked away, trying to ignore Cassandra's words but knowing he was overrun.

"This is a writ from The Divine, granting us the authority to act."

Cassandra stood tall, glaring down at Roderick as struggled to not meet her eyes.

"As of this moment, I declare The Inquisition reborn."

Cassandra moved forward, step by step towards Roderick. He, in turn, took steps backward, trying to keep his distance and his pride.

"_We _will close The Breach. _We _will find those responsible, and _we _will restore order. And _we _will do this with or without your approval." Cassandra stood tall before the Chancellor as he gazed about the group sullenly. His eyes rested on Ashila, still stricken herself by Cassandra's words, and with a sigh turned away and stalked out of the room, slamming the door as he went.

Leiliana closed her eyes, her only sign of frustration was the sharp exhale through her nose. Her eyes fluttered open soon after, her lashes beating as she looked to Ashila whose gaze had fallen to the book before her, confused.

"This is the Divine's Directive: Rebuild the Inquisition of old. Find those who will stand against the chaos."

Leliana bit her lip, a small hesitation before she steeled herself again.

"We are not ready. We have no leader, no numbers, and now no Chantry support."

Ashila bit down the urge to giggle hysterically . She had first fallen into a flipping Rift, into a suicidal attempt to close said-Rift. Now basically pledged herself to a cause with nothing to it's name but a few _fanatics_ in an exalted march to seal the still open Breach and _find _the person who created this death and hysteria.

She was dead.

Cassandras jaw was set. "But we have no choice. WE must act, with you at our side."

Ashila forced down her faintness, focusing on Cassandra with a pained and apprehensive stare,

"You want to start a holy war." she stated. chewing her lip at the haunting thought, Such a path could lead to the death of many who did not follow the laws of such rules, their blood stained in the histories of Thedas she had read in her books.

Cassandra snorted at Ashila's worry.

"We are already at war." she responded dryly.

Pointing to her hand, she said, "You are already involved. Its Mark is upon you." Ashila could not help but snort in the literalness of her continued, " As to whether the war is holy… That depends on what we discover." Cassandra's presence was like a boulder in the rapids, diverting the forceful push of her panic, making her breath a little slower, focusing.

She had no choice. If she chose to run away _now _and condemn not only herself but the world.

She did not know if she could cope with so many lives on that kind of decision.

"If you're truly trying to restore order…"

"That is the plan." Liliana said simply, knowing only too well that on the path for peace, the shadow it had was just as long.

Cassandra walked to Ashila,hand outstretched. She spoke with earnest and resolve, her faith solid like stone.

"Help us fix this before it's too late."

Ashila did not believe in the Maker, though she was versed in his teachings. She resented the Creators and the pantheons she once held dear. She had no faith in the small Cause in it's little town in the mountains, but she knew that she had to do something.

She couldn't live with herself knowing she did nothing.

.

She slowly, numbly, lifted her untouched hand, grasping Cassandra's warm hand with her icy ones, shaking, pledging herself to this mad cause. She was thankful her voice had been lost to her.

She didn't know if she could keep herself from screaming.

Cassandra then turned back to the large oak table, bringing Ashila back with her. The three still remained had all circled around the table, waiting for Cassandra and Ashila to return. Again Ashila pushed her fears to the side, breathing through her nose to try to regain some composure.

Reaching the table, she stood as straight and tall as she could, doing her best to appear proud and defiant (though she feared that she looked like a small bluffing girl compared to the humans who towered over her).

She reminded herself that she was a Hunter, a proud title of the People who would not bow or falter. She would do her ancestors justice and not insult them by appearing weak.

She nodded towards Leliana, already familiar with the woman who nodded back to her, then swept her eyes over the other two. The olive skinned woman stood tall, smiling at her with a kindness that reached her coal-black eyes. She was dressed in all manners of fine silks, blues and bright yellows complimenting her skin with such finery it left Ashila a little envious, for she had never seen such clothes before.

She then let her eyes sweep over the tall man that stood across from her. She had many attractions in her life, mostly small crushes or heated nights with elves from other clans when they happened upon her own people, but never really cared for the humans. They smelled and had large beards that were greasy and always held bits of food that they let dribble out of their mouths. So she was more than a little surprised to see how handsome this particular human was. He towered over her, her head would have barely reached his chest. His eyes were as sharp as the sword at his side, but they were warm and a similar color of an amber stone she had found once in a pool in the forest. His hand rested on the pommel of his sword, relaxed but ready to unleash it's might if the need arises.

She continued to stare, flushing when his eyes met hers and held them in place. It was only when Cassandra had begun her introductions did they both look away sharply, both with a touch of red on their cheeks. Leliana watched silently, amusement in her usually cold eyes.

"May I present Commander Cullen Rutherford, leader of the Inquisition forces." Cassandra began, indicating to the man on the far right.

Cullen had regained his composure quickly. Coughing slightly he spoke in a low, gravelly voice, looking towards the little elf again.

"Such as they are- we lost many soldiers in the valley, and I fear many more before this is through."

Ashila bit the inside of her lip, hard, to keep her girlish emotions under control as she gazed back and the Commander, nodding at his comment.

Cassandra indicated to the dark skinned woman next, and Ashila tore her eyes from the Commanders to look at her. "This is Lady Josephine Montilyet, our ambassador and chief diplomat."

Lady Montilyet finished scratching her quill to the clipboard in her hand before beaming at the two women. She grinned at Ashila and nodded towards her,

"Andaran atish'an." she said, her accent coiling around the elvish word with such care it sounded almost like a song to the elf.

"You speak elvish?" Ashila asked, genuinely surprised and pleased at the sound of her language, the familiarity comforting her.

Lady Montilyet had the courtesy to appear slightly embarrassed.

" You just heard the entirety of it, I'm afraid." she apologized, looking at Ashila warmly, meaning her apology. Ashila could not help but offer the woman a small smile, her kindness in at least learning her language, even a little, was appreciated.

Her clan had always told the young sprites about the ignorance of men, that they were uncaring to the ways of the People, either forced them to change or ostracized her people all together. The woman before her easily disproved her clans hateful views of the 'shems' (a word that she found quite distasteful), and despite her inner chaos, she found herself viewing the young ambassador with a pleasant regard.

Cassandra then faced Leliana, "You, of course, have met Leliana." Ashila nodded silently towards the red headed woman, her eyes bright with recognition. Leliana returned her nod with one of her own, regarding the elf with cool eyes and a small quirk of her mouth.

"My position here involves a degree of.." Though Leliana had begun to describe her role within the Inquisition, Cassandra cut her off.

"She is our spymaster." She said bluntly, the tone in her voice trailing off to let Ashila consider what that job might entail. Ashila had a very good idea of what the job might require, and was quite familiar with such tasks.

Leliana pursed her lips, looking at Cassandra with a pointed look.

"Tactfully put, Cassandra." she said dryly, her glare having no effect on the Seeker.

Cassandra turned, causing Ashila to look to her again. Cassandra glanced over her a moment, before speaking:

"There is much to be done and you are still weary from our assault against the Breach. The people now look to you as their Herald-" Ashila felt her stomach plummet, her anxiety returning with a vengeance at the mention of 'Herald'.

"But I am no such thing." she stated, causing Cassandra to frown. "I do not even believe in the Maker, nor would they believe that He sent an Elf to be their savior." Ashila chuckled bitterly, trying to hide her growing alarm. "I can see why your Chantry would throw a fit over the comparison."

The Commander chuckled and Ashila turned her head to the sound, it momentarily breaking her anxieties hold on her.

"An understatement, if I have ever heard one."

Cassandra spoke again, not allowing herself to be sidetracked.

"We must plan for what our next move is. For now you should get some rest, we will have need of you again soon, Herald." Cassandra let the word hang, a silent confirmation that she believed even though Ashila did not. After the pause, Cassandra then turned to Josephine, Leliana, and the Commander. Thier focus was on the steady orders and schedules that they had begun.

Ashila backed away slowly, letting the shadows envelop her as she toed towards the door, grasping the handle. She did not hear the door wail as she slipped out, ears pounding even to Cassandra calling her name, she could barely keep her steps from wavering, her eyes unfocused and guiding her to the blurry light of the outside. Her head was reeling and she didn't know if she needed air or to throw up. All she could do was drive herself to get to the outside, get some _space_, away from the overwhelming road and it's unknown destination and breath,

She pushed herself through the heavy doors, gasping at how smothering the church had become. Ashila leaned forward, hands grasping her knees to steady herself as she breathed deeply the winter air of the mountains.

It did nothing to steady her thundering felt the eyes of the townsfolk boring into her, adding to the feeling of suffocation she was drowning from. She felt helpless- _terrified._

They were still whispering: "She will save us- she is the Herald!", and she wanted to vomit. They thought her a savior of their people, did they not know that she did not believe in their God, let alone her own?

She was so swept up in her panic she failed to her the large boots crunching the snow behind her, warily walking towards her.

Faintly, a voice called out to her, but her thoughts screamed at her and pushed the sound away till the din from the chaos drowned it out.

A heavy, gloved hand came to rest on her shoulder, and Ashila jumped out of her thoughts like she had been burned, gasping from the lack of air and her alarm. She turned quickly, staring the blonde soldier who had taken her by jerked away, bristling at her sudden movement, but relaxed upon seeing her turmoil. He watched her breath heavily, his hand slowly lowering as to not frighten her further.

"Are you alright, my lady?" his voice was rough like the stubble on his chin. His mannerism depicting one who was taught well in the art of etiquette, and, by the looks of the scars he sported, the art of battle. He was so close that she could see the flecks of red and gold in his honey colored eyes, and smell the leather and sweat from the training he had been doing this morning.

Ashila continued to stare at him worriedly. Her mind was blank, at a loss for words save for being swept away by her anxiety. He had to have been someone of certain significance, otherwise he would never have been in that little room to begin with (she could imagine Cassandra tossing him out into the snow). But she had no clue who he was and in her current state of mind… well it was better that she

"I-what… Commander?" Ashila stammered, blinking away her thoughts and pushing them back behind her mental walls.

She could not afford a stranger seeing her fear, she was now a figure head, unfortunately.

Another burden placed on her by events outside her control. Again.

The man stood tall, his pauldrons lined with fur that had many colors of brown and red and some gold lined in, gracing his already prominent shoulders (she assumed) with a stronger appearance. He brought his arm to his chest, his hand balled in a fist and thumping against the breastplate in a salute, bowing his head slightly.

"Forgive me for startling you." he began, eyes focused on the ground his feet stood on. "You did not look well when you left the war room. I was-" his face scrunched, a very light shade of red coloring his ears. "I was concerned for you, considering how you came into this position, it must be overwhelming for you."

Ashila watched the man for a moment, ignoring the stares of the villagers, her attention solely on him. He had been the first to consider how she felt about the entire state of things. In her terror, there was one person who had stopping to think how it affected her.

At this particular moment, however, she wanted nothing more than to be away from Haven and its people, to just be alone in the wood and forget her torment. if only for a time.

"T-thank you for your concern, Commander." she started flustered and distracted. "It is very-" she bit her lip, unable to find the right word. "I just- I need to get away for a moment." she said, almost pleading and unable to look at the human directly for fear she would see how little he thought of her. Despite her admission, she looked loathing and pained at what she had just disclosed to him and she waited, bracing herself for the mocking laughter that was sure to follow.

Instead the man surprised her. He placed a his gloved hand on her shoulder, startling her out of her thoughts and catching her eyes with his.

"If Cassandra asks' I will say you went to get some fresh air. If possible please do not leave the forest of Haven, otherwise Leliana's spies will be forced to track you down." he offered her a small smile. He too was surprised at the gesture that had happened instinctively, and did his best to appear calm and resolute.

"We wouldn't want to bring you back in chains, would we?"

Ashila gazed at him silently, slowly processing what he was offering. Then, mouthing a silent 'thank you'- she ran.

She ran faster than she had in days, reveling in the feeling of her feet flying through the snow as she rushed out of the gates of Haven and into the open valley. Many stopped to look after her, murmuring in shock of her speed, but the Commander stood silently, watching her disappear out of sight.

The Herald was a curious woman. He thought on her a moment longer, the thought of her eyes still leaving him electrified. He then shook himself out of his thoughts and marched down the steps, reminding himself begrudgingly of the whelps he had to train.

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><p>Small translation: Fen'Vehnan means 'Wolf Heart'<p>

Have a great weekend! Thank you so much for reading!


	7. Chapter 6: The Hanging Tree

I am alive! I swear moving is a pain in the neck and I am not even done! Ill keep trying to update as much as possible so fear not readers! Please Enjoy Chapter 6! Ill put in a

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><p>Chapter 6: The Hanging Tree<p>

Ashila ran past the icy lake, the snow on the ground being kicked into the air as her boots dug into the ground. She wished for the summertime, or that Haven had been located in a warmer climate, she missed her bare feet digging into the earth as she sped through the woods of the Free Marches so deep and green. But there was hardly any green here, the trees too few and far between, and the ground was hard and frozen, covered by many inches of snow. And her feet were so cold that she was forced to wear the man made boots that suffocated her feet, another reminder that she was out of her element.

But Ashila continued to run, the sun reflecting in the snow and through her hair as it billowed in the wind. Deeper into the valley she went, startling a pack of rams and a small fennic as she came skidding to a stop. The snow rose like a great tide as her feet dug through the powder to the hard ground below.

Her breathing was ragged, for she had run with all her might, spanning from the Chantry at Haven to the very edges of Haven's land in merely a few seconds. Faintly, she could still hear the clashing of swords and shields from the recruits training in the courtyard, and she could see the wooden walls of the town, so she was not too far out. She debated as she breathed in the crisp air, running even farther till she could run no more (her muscles screamed at her in protest but she knew the limits of her body), but she dare not tempt fate lest Leliana's spies deem her a runaway and hunt her down.

Ashila growled angrily, then balled her hands into fists and let out a loud passionate scream. Into the scream she poured her anger at the Breach, her frustration at the humans who gave her no choice but to stay and help them, and her fear at what they believed she was.

Her scream faded with the last of the air in her lungs, her throat raw, unaccustomed to such yelling, Ashila was never the sort to yell, always being a soft spoken elf even when she was small. But Creators- she was so helpless.

"They think me a savior when I do not even believe in this damned cause." she croaked, voice cracking from use. She looked to the side, her eyes beholding a great willow tree, it's bare branches hanging down and disappearing into the snow beneath it.

Slowly, Ashila moved towards it, parting the branches to get closer to it's base.

The willow's branches hung about like a great curtain, blocking out some of the harsh sunlight, even the snow was not able to fully penetrate through the branches, the ground was bare inside it's embrace, turfs of grass still springing up despite the cold.

She kneeled, crawling a short distance till she could put her back flush against the trunk. Breathing had become a little easier, now that she was away from Haven, even more so hidden inside the tree, it's branches protecting her for the time being.

Ashila wearily reached for her water skin, pulling off it's stopper in a smooth motion before downing it's contents. Each gulp was full, stretching her throat to accommodate the large amount of wine she was trying to put away to stifle the panic in her head and the uncertainty twisting in her stomach.

She suckled the last drops desperately from the sack, the let it drop to her side as she felt a wave of dizziness from the drink cascade over her mind, numbing the pain and the fear, leaving her eyes heavy and body humming with warmth,

Her eyes began to flutter shut, heavy from the drink she had consumed so quickly, and the faintly enjoyed the feeling of her back melding with the grooves of the tree as she dozed in the shade.

'_Mamae!'_

_A young girl ran into the tent, causing the older woman to look up from her sewing. The little elf dived into the women's open arms, her wild black hair the only thing visible as she buried her head into her mothers breast, a muffled sob arising. _

_The older woman smiled sadly and brought the young elf close, moving her long inky black braid from her shoulder to her back._

"_Ma Len'Vehnan, why do you cry my little one?" she asked softly, her rich voice accented and musical. She brushed the wild tresses of her little ones head, running her fingers through to untangle the knots that were there. _

_The girl sniffled into her mothers clothes a moment before looking up. Her large black and white eyes were red and filled with tears, and her nose was running with snot. The woman could not help but chuckle and the sight of her little one, taking the sleeves of her dress and rubbing the snot from her daughters runny nose. _

"_Speak to me, Da'len. Mamae cannot help if she does not know what is wrong!"_

_The girl sniffled again, nuzzling into her mothers hand._

"_The other Asha would not let me play with the other kids," she began, her high voice still stained by her tears. "They said they would not let the Fen'Vehnan taint their kids," _

_The older woman's ears drooped sadly as she watched her child frown at the grass they sat on, her bottom lip quivering._

"_Why do they call me that, Mamae? I believe in the Halla Mother, and I do not seek out the Wolf, why do they call me such things?"_

_The womans heart broke watching her child try to make sense of the hate that was thrown at her little one for reasons she could not control, all she could do was continue to pet the girls head as she told her more. _

"_I tried to go to Papa, that he would allow me to play with the others, but he told me I was not allowed." _

_The woman sighed, thinking to the man she was committed too. He was responsible for taking care of the clan and making sure they felt safe, yes- but from their own daughter? He would know exactly what she thought of it later, but for now…_

"_Come sit with me, Vehnan. Does your head hurt?" _

_The girl sniffled and nodded before climbing over the clothes her mother had been working on and hopping into her lap. _

_The woman smiled again before running her hands through her daughters hair again, this time her hands turned icy with her magic, rubbing the little girls scalp with her frozen touch. She hummed softly while she attended to her daughter, knowing that this would easily help her calm down and bring back the smile she always loved to see. _

_As expected, the girl sighed as the tears slowly ceased, relaxing into her mother chest._

"_Mamae, will you sing the song for me?" The woman chucked softly, looking into her daughters beautiful eyes with a lopsided grin. _

"_Only if you sing with me, Ashila."_

_The girl beamed at her mother, brightening her face with a toothy grin, and her ears wiggled with delight. _

_The mother began to hum again, still running her slim fingers through her daughters hair. Little Ashila adjusted herself and closed her eyes, her high pitched hums matching her mothers._

"_Are you, are you, coming to the Tree?_

_Where I told you to run, so we'd both be free?_

_Strange things did happen here, no stranger would it be,_

_If we left, at midnight _

_In the Hanging Tree."_

The memory swam in Ashilas closed eyes as if it had happened only yesterday. She hummed quietly in her daydream, letting the feeling of her mother's fingers laced with cold magic run through her hair, easing her mind and heart. It felt so real- it was the calmest she had felt in ages it seemed like.

Her eyes remained closed not yet ready to leave the memory yet, and she hummed softly the tune of her mother's lullaby. It had be eternity since those times in the forest when her mother had sung her those lullabies, but she still remembered word for word and how each note was meant to sound. Back then her voice had been high and untrained, but now she sang softly, from her diaphragm, her words reverberating in the air as it melded with the voice of her mothers.

"Are you, are you, coming to the Tree?

Wear a necklace of hope,

Side by side with me?

Strange things did happen-"

The feeling of her head being massaged continued but...Her mothers voice, the sweet alto had faded, a cracking tenor voice had replaced it, sounding as if it had never sung a day in it's life.

Ashila's eyes shot open. Panicked, she pulled herself forward, eyes darting about wildly for the person who had pretended to sing like her mother. The sun streamed through small openings in the branches above her, bright and clear. The snow that surrounded the tree was undisturbed, save for her footprints she had put there herself an hour before.

There was no one to be seen.

_Had it been my imagination?_ Ashila wondered to herself. The voice was unfamiliar, but she could have sworn she had heard it before, in times long passed…

Her musings were to be cut short, as the branches to her left rustled from being pushed to the side.

Ashila looked up to see Solas peek through the cover, looking around till his eyes rested on her.

He nodded at her lightly,

"I was wondering if I was to find you at all. Lucky for me, you seek solitude where i would as well." Ashila stared up at the elf curiously, thinking on his voice. No, it was was much too deep for the voice she had heard in her head.

Solas glanced down briefly at the empty water sack, the faint smell of wine reaching his nose. He let his gaze pass over the old pouch and looked back to Ashila with a small smile, showing no signs of knowledge about what she had been doing and simply asked: "May I sit?"

Ashila gazed at him for a moment longer before nodding slowly, scooting over a bit to make enough room to accommodate the other elf.

Solas sat down gracefully, sweeping his legs into a criss-cross position beside her. He gazed through the branches to the white world the surrounded them, sighing happily.

"You have found an appropriate resting place, my friend." he commented pleasantly, his bare feet showing no signs of chill as they rubbed into the hard earth. "It is true that the Dalish are able to find all manner of peaceful havens in nature."

At this comment Ashila gave him a curious look. "What do you know of the Dalish?" she questioned. In all honesty, she thought Solas had been a runaway alienage elf, and many of them had no clue what their brothers and sisters of the woods did. Usually they believed that her people did all manner of questionable rituals naked under full moons to appease their Gods.

A fantastical notion, but really the truth was very dull compared to their wild assumptions.

Solas chucked softly, giving her a lopsided smile.

"I have met many of your People on my journeys."

Ashila frowned at his words,

"We are all the same People, Solas." She said quietly, staring at the ground, fiddling with a blade of grass between the thumb and forefinger.

Solas was slightly taken aback by her comment. He had known of many Dalish, and none would ever compare themselves with the elves that resided in many human cities, thinking those in the Alienages beneath them. He did not let his surprise show to the younger elf, instead he nodded in agreement.

"This is true. Unfortunately the clan that I had come too close too felt otherwise about that opinion."

Ashila could not help but chuckle at his words, images coming to mind of such a clan firing arrows and magic alike as Solas ran for the hills. The drink was still in her system, relaxing her and allowing her to show her emotions more freely. Her soft, almost childish giggle surprised him yet again.

Solas noted the small grin on her face, observing how it seemed to lift the years from her face, revealing how young she actually was.

They sat together for some time, enjoying the quiet of the valley, watching silently as all manner of animals that called the valley home wandered past the willow, unbeknownst to their presence.

"Why did you come?" Ashila asked, breaking the silence. She kept her eyes forward, but felt his gaze on her as he spoke.

"The Commander did his best to calm Seeker Pentaghast after your… dash from Haven. She was ready to send a scouting team after you, but myself and the Commander convinced her that you simply needed some time to yourself."

He looked out from between the hanging branches towards the small town, the heart of the Inquisition.

"She could not deny that you had been through quite an experience. She tasked me with accompanying and assessing your well being." Solas then chucked deeply, causing Ashila to look over at him.

"She could not bear to lose The Chosen of Andraste. A blessed hero sent to save us all." The look Ashila had given him must have appeared quite comical to him, for he laughed softly.

Ashila grumbled, rolling her eyes to the heavens. "Am I at least riding in on a shining steed, doves somehow flowing from my arse?" she asked him sarcastically, earning a snort from Solas.

"I would have suggested a griffon, but sadly, they're extinct." His eyes became clouded, as if recalling a time long past. It was only for a moment, for his eyes refocused, looking down to her, his dark brows raised in amusement and skepticism. "Joke as you will, posturing is necessary."

Solas paused again, gathering his thoughts. Ashila remained silent, watching Solas carefully as a student would hang on the words of their professor. Ashila had always had a curious mind, even when she was very small. Solas was a reservoir of intellect that she was eager to know and understand, especially when it was of things her People would- _could _never obtain.

Solas spoke again, more softly this time, "I've journeyed deep into the Fade in ancient ruins and battlefields to see the dreams of lost civilizations." He absentmindedly called upon his magic, fire springing to his fingertips. Ashila watched, entranced by how he let the fire dance in his palm with naught but a second thought, but at the picture his words brought to her mind.

"I've watched hosts of spirits clash to reenact the bloody past in ancient wars both famous and forgotten. Every great war has its heros."

With a flick of his hand, the flame was extinguished. He then turned to look at Ashila again, his face relaxing as he stared at her.

"I'm just curious what kind you'll be."

Ashila's face pulled into a grimace at the mention of her new calling.

Doing her best to not let the silence grow awkward, she instead opted to sate some of her curiosity about the older elf, asking him: "What do you mean, ruins and battlefields?"

Solas was pleased to hear the curiosity in her voice, for most Dalish were stubborn in their ways and in their refusal to partake of anything they did not understand. He kept his face passive, hiding his enjoyment, while responding, "Any buildings strong enough to withstand the rigors of time has a history. Such as every battlefield is steeped in death. Places that hold significant emotion, whether it be joyous or turmoil, attract spirits. They press against the Veil, weakening the barrier between our worlds. These places hold their memories dear, standing the test of time, and when I dream deep into the Fade I can find these memories. Memories that no other has ever seen."

With each word he spoke Ashila found herself regretting more and more how flippant she had been when they had first met. She blamed it on the fact that her life had been in immediate danger at the time, this elf, this Haren, was one that she could learn from. No doubt he knew many things: of the People, of the Fade, of a great many things she could not find in stolen books from the humans and the convoluted stories of her clan.

"Is it not dangerous to sleep in the middle of ancient ruins?" she inquired, pulling her legs to her chest and letting her chin rest on her knees.

"I _do _set wards."

Oh, yea. Mage. They can do that.

"And if you leave food out for the giant spiders, they are usually content to live and let live." Solas added, his lips quirking.

Ashila pondered for a moment, imagining what sights Solas had beheld in the Fade.

"I do not think anyone has traveled so far into the Fade as you have, that is extraordinary, Haren." she bit her lip and looked away. It was not hard to pick up on Solas' distaste for the Dalish, so when she gambled and referred to him as an elder of the People, she was not sure how he would take the label- as a compliment or insult.

Solas, of course, always threw her for a loop.

"Thank you," he said, his voice light and pleased. "It is not a common field of study, not as flashy as throwing fire or lightning. But discovering the memories of a thousand-year-old dream? I would not trade it for anything."

He paused again. Ashila could not help but look at him shyly through the hair that had fallen in front of her eyes. He was pondering again, watching the snow fall silently around them. By this time their tracks in the snow had been partially filled with new powder.

"I will stay then, at least until the Breach has been closed."

His face pulled into a frown as he spoke.

"You are concerned about something?" she pressed gently, not wishing to overstep her bounds but suspecting as to why he was so on the fence about remaining with the Inquisition. She did not want to admit to being selfish, but it was comforting having someone like Solas around when she too had been basically conscripted into staying.

"I _am_ an apostate, Da'Len. Though Cassandra has been accommodating, you can understand my caution if my usefulness to her cause runs dry."

At his words Ashila's brow furrowed, her lips pursed. Cassandra was a passionate and, well, stubborn woman, yes. But she was not a woman to turn on allies when they come to assist her, even mages.

Even then, she could see why Solas would be concerned.

"You came here to help, Solas. I would not let them use that against you."  
>Solas cocked his head to the side, observing her silently before asking, "How would you stop them?"<p>

Ashila pondered for a moment, her eyes on a small beetle that scurried by her boot. She then looked back to Solas, and he noted the resolve in her eyes and her determined voice as she stated: "Whatever I had to,"

The only indication of Solas' surprise was the deliberate blink of his lids, his long lashes kissing his cheeks as he mulled over her words and the conviction they held.

Ashila was pleased with herself, that she was able to keep her heart from hammering out of her chest as she faced his stare with her own.

"Thank you."

His voice was a whisper, floating away with the breeze so quickly Ashila barely heard it. But she had, and the small smile that came to her lips barely conveyed the warmth she felt spreading through her. She was happy knowing that she would not be completely alone.

The older elf may not be of the People, but she felt a kinship with him that she had not felt with another elf in a long time. The feeling loosened the anxiety over her entire predicament to the point it felt manageable again.

Solas stirred beside her. Ashila looked ever to see him rise to his feet with such dexterity she wondered if he felt no ache in his body from sitting on the ground for so long.

"I fear we have conversed for so long Cassandra might suspect we have both fled into the wilds." he said to her, chuckling lightly at the thought.

"Perhaps we should return."

He held out a large hand to her. She took it, struggling to rouse her aching muscles.

_Creators, preserve me. This elder puts me to shame! _

Solas walked forward to the veil of branches while Ashila rubbed the pins and needles from her waking muscles, grumbling in elvish of the pain. Chuckling at her, Solas waited till Ashila could move to him without the unusual feeling of electricity running up her legs and pushed his hand out through the branches. He parted them for her, bowing slightly to allow her through the curtain first, his lips twitching as she gave him a teasing look, scrunching up her brow and nose.

They walked together through the snow, slowly making their way back to Haven. Their path trailed this way and that as they conversed about the elves. He had been reluctant at first, his words like a whip when he had assumed she would try to force what little knowledge she had of the People onto him. But Ashila would not relent in her curiosity, happily telling him she knew so very little and wished to learn whatever he would offer, and after a time he accepted she truly had a desire for his wisdom, and happily gave some to her.

"There is too much to tell you in one day." he added, his voice full of quiet mirth at her pout when he told her she would only learn of some things today.

"Then you will tell me more in the coming days." she stated, her thirst to learn unabashed. Solas pretended to sigh in exasperation, but nodded, pleased at the eagerness in her that he did not expect from one of the Dalish. Again the little one surprised him with her desires, she had been so callous before he had not foreseen such a thirst for the unknown in her.

They continued on their way, Solas explaining the history of Arthalan and Elvhenan. They paid no mind to the black ravens that flew out overhead, their caws echoing in the valley as they flew to destinations leagues away, messages tied to their legs with tidings of the Inquisition.

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><p>Ill try post sooner! But still movingunpacking/working is hard!


	8. Chapter 7: Waiting For The Ravens

I am here guys! Swear to the Creators I am not dead! Work is going good 40 hours is killer though. Still unpacking (I know I am such a sloth) and I have been trying to upload this damn chapter but for some reason I couldn't copy/paste for the life of me!

But Chapter 7 is here and we get to have a small relaxation time before we head to the Hinterlands! Plus the Commander gets to do cool stuff so I am excited for that.

Weekly postings should resume soon, but it will still be a little slow. Thank you all so much for reading and messaging me about how you feel about my story, it really keeps me going. With an epic journey such as this it is nice to know people like it :D

As usual I do not own any BIOWARE material, just the idea of my character. ENJOY!

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><p>Chapter 7: In the Days Before The Ravens Returned<p>

In the days before the ravens returned (about three days to be precise) many things had transpired in the little town of Haven:

The day after Ashila's talk with Solas, she had been mistaken for a serving girl and nearly got in a brawl over the misunderstanding…

Ashila could not sleep well the night before. The softness of the bed was unnatural to her when she was so used to a thin bedroll with the earth underfoot. Sleep had, obviously, not come easy for her. She had rolled from her bed, hair wilder than usual, to the elvhen serving girl (her name she had discovered to be Tasha), running out the door with a hot meal of eggs and bacon on the main table in the small cottage that was given to her as her quarters.

She ate lazily, fork missing mouth more times than she cared to admit. Ashila then began donning the outfit so carefully made by the blacksmith before stepping into the bright light of the morning sun.. She had done much before the altercation had begun: she found the notes left by Addan's former master in the abandoned hut left smoldering on the outskirts of Haven, and found plenty of Iron and mutton to satisfy Threnn before the sun struck noon.

She had been relaxing on the roof of one of the cottages, watching the Commander instruct his new recruits through the daily drills, (giggling to herself when the Commander shouted: 'By Andraste's knickers'- which he did more than once) when she had lept off the roof, walking into a pair of new recruits that had been whipped by the Cullens drills: angry and ready to divert their frustrations on anyone who came near.

"Ay, you! Knife-ear! Find us some cloth to wipe our sweat." One had called, causing all elves in the vicinity to freeze, Ashila included.

She did not turn, hoping that they were focused on some other elf, but the Creators were not kind this day, and she felt the hand of the one speaking push her roughly.

"I was talking to _you, _bloody elf." Ashila felt her face bare a snarl, and forced it to remain as passive as she could before walking on.

The human, not taking kind to her brushing her off, grabbed her roughly by the arm, forcing her to spin round to face him,

"Don't you _dare, _ignore him, Knife-ear. Least I have your guts for garters." The firsts recruits friend piped up from behind, eager to see the dramatics play out.

At this Ashila turned, her eyes hard as stone and jaw set.

"Do not dare call me such a name, human. Least I have your head sitting on a spike from the battlements."

Her fingers itched, no, _begged_ for her to reach for her daggers, but she refrained: she knew the state of the Inquisition and their forces- every life was precious and she would not jeopardize it over a stupid misunderstanding.

The human puffed his chest, easily towering over her (she did not flinch, the boys posturing did not scare her), before answering menacingly:

"Do not force me to clip your ears, Knife-ear."

She had begun to reach for her daggers, when the lad had been pulled roughly to the side.

Ashila was startled; she did not see Commander Cullen walk up so quietly. She was equally stupefied by the dark glare he had set on the young recruit, his usually warm eyes darkened brown by the silent anger in them.

"Recruit. Do you mind repeating what you just said to this woman." His voice was like the spikes she had just threatened the boys head with.

The boy in questions face had gone a shade of pale near the exact same color as Ashila's hair before stammering: "I was simply asking this serving girl to get me a towel, but she had decided to-"

The Commander cut him off, his voice as ominous as the Breach above him as he spoke:

"You will refrain from calling the _Herald of Andraste,_ a serving girl. And hope that she does not wish your head to be mounted to the battlements. If she desired such a thing I would not mind aquiesting her request."

The two literally cowered before Cullen, their eyes wide and looking very likely to soil their breeches before Cullen snapped:

"You will return to the training ground for _extra_ drills, and you are prohibited from tonight and tomorrows supper."

The two recruits nodded vigorously before running back to the training grounds, eager to be out of sight of the Commander.

The Commander sighed wearily, rubbing his forehead with a gloved palm before looking to Ashila, his eyes holding a guarded concern.

"I hope they did not harm you, My Lady?"

Ashila's rage was still palpable, her jaw and mind working past the unanswered rage as she stiffingly answered: "No more than I can bear, Commander."

He is not satisfied with her answer, seeing through her guise to the barely leashed rage like she was a pane of glass.

"The recruits are from area's where Alienages are most prominent. They do not know they head from their arse it seems. I will ensure that they know not to speak to you in such a manner again."

His attempts to ease any conflicts are all in good nature, Ashila knows this. But if this is how the elves of the city are treated…

"I would rather they do not treat _any _elves in the manner I was just subjected too, otherwise I see no reason to have them here at all." Ashila snapped, her words dripping with venom.

Cullen jerked his head back as if she had slapped him. His expression was calm, but Ashila could see the remorse in his eyes and immediately regretted her spiteful words.

"Ah. Forgive me, Commander." Ashila raised her hand to her forehead, rubbing it to ease the growing headache. "That was unkind of me. I am simply unaccustomed to life with humans, and it is painful to see the reality in which my People live."

Cullen shook his head, his composure in place as he waved aside her apology. "Nay, Herald-"

Ashila bit her tongue, not allowing her sour mood to rain on the Commander anymore than it had, even though he said _the word_. "-the Inquisition is meant to stand for all. To have our recruits unable to abide by that basic principle is a shame on us." He gazed at her, jaw set and committed to proving the worth of his soldiers.

"I will not allow this mindset to continue. You have my word."

At his pledge, Ashila really looked at the Commander, her hand falling slowly to her side as she contemplated the man before her.

She had been told he had been a Templar. Her Clan had always had a story or two to tell about the Templar's of the Free Marshes. The kind of stories you would tell your sprites to keep them in line and eat their vegetables.

The Templar's were something to be feared, coming in the silence of night to find their Mages and steal them away to the Circle. Even though she sniffed at most the superstitions that her Clan had whispered around the fire, she had watched from the forests edge one day when she was still small as a Temple smited a human Mage who had tried to make a break from them.

Their mocking laughter had sent her flying back into the shadows of the woods.

The Commander did not appear to resemble Templar's she had seen abusing the frightened Mage. Where the Templar's lept at the defenseless mage, hungry jackals biting the heels of wounded prey, the Commander stood proudly. The dark fur of his cloak that enveloped his shoulders was full and glossy, like that of a lion. His prowess was contained, coiled within him and ready to leap should the moment strike him.

He was steel and strength. And in that moment, she did believe the promise that made to her.

Her smile was slow, spreading over her face in a bloom. Her sharp cheekbones lifted into gentle slopes on her face, her eyes losing their point, filling with warmth that melted the ice that she had surrounded herself with.

"Thank you, Commander."

Cullen had not expected this. He had expected an icy stare, a biting remark that would leave him cold, her words drawing a line in the sand.

His eyes had widened when her quiet smile was directed at him. The morning sun dancing through her hair and on her pink lips. She seemed to glow in the light, her smile as bewitching as a Mages incantation, and could be just as deadly.

But where he could handle a Mages fire, Cullen was unaccustomed to a ladies gratitude. His cheeks tinted red and the back of his neck burned with such intensity he was surprised steam did not emit from his ears.

He gulped, his Adams apple bobbing from the struggle. Silently praying to the Maker to save some face and speak to the woman with whatever dignity he had left.

"I, ah… Think nothing of it, Herald." Maker, he wished he could disappear. He rubbed his hot neck, his eyes shifting away from The Herald's in the hopes he would not humiliate himself further.

The name was still sour, but its irritation could not overtake the cheer Ashila had been filled with. Instead she shook her head, chuckling lightly. She murmured 'good day' to the Commander, turning and leaving him to stew in his private mortification.

Cullen watched her walk to her assigned cottage. Though the anger in her had subsided, he could still feel it simmering, enough so that she felt it necessary to retreat into her quarters as to not attract any more unwanted attention. And though his drills with the recruits ran long through the day till the sky burned red and orange, he did not see her emerge from her domicile even once. Not that his eyes glanced over on more than one occasion.

Most certainly not.

The second day was almost identical to the first. Sleep still evaded Ashila, and what little she did manage to capture was taken with the crowing of some rooster. Ashila awoke in a flurry of bed covers and bedhead, cursing the offending fowl and startling poor Tasha, who almost spilled the bowel of porridge she was setting on Ashila's table.

After calming the poor girl down (forcing her to sit as Ashila brewed a pot of tea for the two over the fire), they sat together, and Ashila asked the younger elf to tell her of life among the humans. The younger elf was practically bouncing in the chair across from Ashila, giddy that the _Herald_ wanted to talk to _her._

She gushed about the daily life of Haven, from her responsibilities as one of the servants to the latest gossip that was running through the small town. Ashila listened attentively, spooning small bits of the mush into her mouth. She was cheered by the breathless enthusiasm, laughing softly as she recounted a moment from earlier in the morning when one of the new girls had spilled a red dye into the clothes of the soldiers that were to be washed that morning. Try as they might to wash out the dye, some of the men would be walking around in dazzling pink small clothes.

The thought had Ashila and Tasha in fits of laughter.

Tasha was forced to part with the Herald, thanking her repeatedly for allowing her to stay and converse, apologizing (repeatedly) for leaving because of the other chores she had to do before the rest of the village was roused for the morning. Ashila happily extended an offer to sit with her while she broke fast in the mornings, and the other elf was all to happy to accept. She left the small cottage with a spring in her step, she went through the rest of the day wearing a smile that refused to leave her face.

Though her morning had been grand so far, the thought of what had transpired the morning previous was still fresh in Ashila's mind. She fidgeted around her small cottage for some time, struggling between the desire to leave the safety of her abode or to remain.

After an hour, the walls had begun to stifle her to the point where she left the cottage to simply escape the feeling of being closed in!

She walked around Haven hesitantly, waving awkwardly to those who stopped and bowed to her, her smile more of a grimace when they murmured 'Herald' to her. She passed Solas, nodding to him respectfully and wishing him a 'good morning'. He did the same, inclining his head as his eyes returned to the open book in his hand, lazily leaning against the cottage that had been assigned to him as he read quietly.

The sight of the book sparked recognition in Ashila's mind. She walked away quickly, searching around for her dwarf companion.

Ashila found him besides a tent and a roaring fire, roasting sausages on a thin metal rod while propping himself against a stone wall.

"Varric!"

Said dwarf look up from the fire. Seeing Ashila drawing near, he waved her over, making room for her to sit beside him.

"Glow! It is good to see you about. I was worried that Cassandra would have you in chains again after your sprint from the Church," He chuckled good naturedly, turning his meal over in the fire so it would cook evenly.

"Luckily for me, Cassandra was in a good mood." She said lightly, crossing her her legs on the small stool she sat upon. "Perhaps I should have thought of that beforehand: those cuffs sure chafe."

"Don't they just!" he joked, wiggling his brows at her, earning a polite chuckle from the elf. His expression sobered a little before he said: "I heard about what happened yesterday. You doing alright?" Ashila snorted, waving her hand to dispel his worry.

"Fear not, Ser Tetheras. It will take more than a few uninspired insults to cut me."

Varric snorted, accepting her answer but still concerned. He poked at the crackling meat, it's juices running hot down his fingertips while he mulled.

Eager to divert his attention, she inquired: "You mentioned that you are a story writer. May I ask what you have written?"

Varric, wiping the grease from his fingers, brightened instantly at the mention of his writings.

"You're interested in my serials? I thought Dalish were only interested in dusty old scrolls about a thousand years ago. It certainly is what I have heard and seen about them."

Ashila chuckled at his playful jab, her lips tugged by the small smile that the dwarf was able to pull from her with ease.

"This is true. How I must be a particularly defective Dalish." her very vague answer paired with the smooth shrug she gave him piqued his interest.

"You might have to explain this one, Glow."

Ashila sighed at Varric's persistence. After a moment of consideration, she saw no harm in letting him know a bit about herself and grabbed a lock of her white hair, braiding it absentmindedly as she explained.

"Though my clan was very wary of humans. We often made camp at the edge of woods near small villages; for trading purposes. Though the elders were always quick to feed the younger sprites with tales of how humans would take us away to Alienages, never to be seen again, I had always been curious of the humans. One night I had slipped into the house of a farmer of his family the Keeper had met with to let him know we would not be staying far from the edge of his land. I was curious how humans lived so comfortably in one place, having lived a nomadic life with my People. Looking around the house I had come across a leather bound book on the history of the Chantry." Ashila smiled, remembering how the old book felt in her hand, the spine splitting from excessive reading.

"I had been taught the ways of human writing by my mother, when I was older I was to be one of the hunters who would have to interact with humans on behalf of my People, thus I was able to read somewhat. I had read only the first page when I had decided to take it back to the camp with me."

She chuckled, "I read that book cover to cover till the sun was shining through my tent flap. That evening I returned the book and eagerly searched for more material to read. From then on whenever we made camp near a human settlement for extended periods, I would sneak into the town in the cover of darkness to grab books to read." She ended her tale, looking at the ground sheepishly, ears tinted pink.

Varric could only beam at her. "What made you keep going back? I assume if you had been caught the punishment would have been severe."

Ashila's eyes were bright with contained excitement, unable to hide that the topic of books was a source of great love for her.

"Any book I grabbed could teach me almost anything. Being a Dalish I did not get to see much of the world, save for the route we always traveled. But with the books I was able to read, I was able to learn about all of Thedas! I would never see a dragon, or see a Qunari, or even live the lives of the fictional characters I read about in the pages, but I could _imagine_ it." her voice was breathy and high, and though she blushed she gazed at Varric with strong look that only confirmed her love.

Varric shook his head, her excitement infectious to him as he bit a chunk out of the cooked meat, it's juices flowing over his tongue with flavors from salt and the fire he roasted them on.

Swallowing, he rested his speared meal on a plate beside him and wiped the fat on his pants. He then reached behind him, craning his neck, pushing aside the flap to his pack and fishing around. He withdrew three small books from his belongings, holding them carefully in his large hands.

"I have a series I am currently writing called "Hard in Hightown", it's a crime serial with soldiers doing bad things to get the right things done." he tossed two of the books to Ashila, who caught them nimbly in her hands.

"That is the first two in the series, get you hooked for more. Now this-" he held the last book up. On it's cover was a dark haired man, wielding two blades in mid spiral.

"Is is my masterpiece, what I am most known- most infamous for, actually: _Tales Of The Champion_."

He sighed fondly, looking at the book as if it was an old friend.

"This is the story of my friend, Garrett Hawke, and the adventures we had together with our friends. It also touches upon the beginning of the Mages rebellion… Kinda how this entire disaster started, really." He handed her the book, rather than tossing it. Ashila let her fingers slide down the cover of the book, staring at the small painting of the man who she assumed was Hawke. These were Varrics personal set of books, and she had to force herself to keep her cool as she looked up to Varrics waiting gaze.

"You are letting me read them?"

"No, I wanted you to hold them a moment before I took them back. Of course I would like you to read them , Glow."

Ashila's lips trembled to contain her small smile from spreading into a full grin. She clutched the books to her breast: this was the first time she had ever been _given_ a book by someone willing to let her read.

"Thank you so very much, Varric. I will not let any harm come to them."

"See that you don't! They are my personal copies, after all." Varric picked back up his food, pausing before a bite as a thought passed through his head.

"You know…" Ashila head already gotten to her feet, but stopped to listen. "I'm sure that if you talk to the Advisors, they could procure some books for you. All you would have to say is that they are for 'Inquisition' purposes to learn all you can, and I am sure Curly, Red, and Ruffles would not mind getting you a whole library!"

Varric watched her face. Though it remained passive, her eyes widened as his suggestion sparked the wheels to turn in her mind.

She bid him a hasty farewell, literally jumping out of her skin to find a small nook to nestle in and begin reading. Varric chuckled, watching her dash back to her cottage, slamming the door behind her. She reemerged, carrying a sleeping pack, the books, and her waterskin all in her dainty arms. She tossed the skin and the bedroll onto the roof of her little hut, then proceeded to clamber onto the roof as if she was a small child. He laughed to himself, devouring the rest of the sausages before getting to his feet, eager to find something to do for the day.

He had not harassed the Seeker in over a day…

For the remainder of the day, Ashila laid back on the roof of her new home, devouring the inked words on the pages with such ferocity she had the first book of Hard in Hightown done an hour after the afternoon meal. The people of Haven only caught sight of her when her hair fluttered in the breeze, the sun catching it's whiteness and making it almost blinding to the sight. They whispered and pointed, shocked to see their Herald doing such a _normal_ thing.

Ashila paid no mind, so engrossed in her own little world and she turned each page eagerly. After a time the people accepted the sight with secret smiles, enjoying the happiness that danced in her eyes with each page she read.

When she finally stepped down from her perch, the sun had dipped low into the valley, chased by a burning sky full of reds, oranges, and purples. She ate in her cottage alone, still unable to bring herself to eat with the village in the church. But this night she devoured her meat and steamed potatoes with great gusto, whereas last night she simply chased the food around her plate with her fork. She then dove into her welcoming bet, wrapping her quilt tightly around herself. Lighting a candle at her bedside table and propping _The Tales Of The Champion _on her knees. She read till the candle burned low, sputtering feebly at her as if to remind her that sleep was a necessity.

But how could she stop when in the next chapter Hawke would face down the Ashiok to save his dear Isabella?

When the sun of the third day began to creep over the small town, Ashila called her advisors together.

Her eyes had dark circles, and she yawned through most of the meeting, but her eyes were eagers as she made her request for books to be sent to Haven.

"Would it not be wise if I knew as much as possible about the land and its inhabitants?" she questioned, fidgeting under their contemplative gazes as she championed her proposal.

Josephine was the first to speak: "Our influence is little to none, unfortunately. However I am certain I can convince some merchants to sell us tomes detailing the history of Fereldan and Orlais. It will take us some time, but as our reputation grows, I will keep my eyes out for anything scholarly that could benefit our cause. Would this suffice, My Lady?"

Ashila nodded eagerly, causing Josephines ruby lips to pucker in a smile.

After discussing the problem of acquiring coin for their organization (as much as telling the Chancellor to 'sod off' in the nicest way possible was, it also meant that their access to the Chantry's deep purse was no longer an option) Ashila headed out to her little perch. intent on finishing _Tales_ and observing the Commander run his men ragged from a safe distance.

Solas had joined her for a time, regaling her with tales and knowledge from the Fade (today's topic was magic, and the possible differentiation between human and elf magic). He spoke mostly, only stopping to hear her questions and answer as best he could. They continued like this till the early afternoon, when black specks on the horizon caught their far seeing eyes.

The ravens flew overhead, their sharp calls signaling their return with news.

Ashila new that it was time to put herself to work.

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><p>Ta daaa! Hope it was worth the wait! The Hinterland chapters are going to be humongous so be prepared for some epic reading soon! Thank you so much for reading my story!<p> 


	9. Chapter 8: The Hinterlands Burn, Part I

Good evening my readers! Chapter 8 is a doozy as well as Chapter 9, so I will stagger them (meaning I will be posting 9 a week after next, it's already past 20 pages so bear with me I want to make it as perfect as possible!) We are finally getting some action going in our story, a little bit of background on our protagonist will be coming up and simply just a lot of fun in the Hinterlands.

I have a big interview on Monday (hoping to get a job with Microsoft XBOX!) so think happy thoughts for me. I hope you all are excited for this chapter, feel free to let me know what you think!

Also if anyone wishes to be a reader for me, just do catch any details or spelling errors that I could correct, please send me a PM I'd love to have someone to help me out if they can!

Please enjoy the story again guys! I only own Ashila, everything else is strictly BIOWARE!

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><p>Chapter 8: The Hinterlands Burn, Part One<p>

There had been a time where Clan Lavellan had been on their summer migration to the Kocari Wilds in which they stumbled upon another clan that was on their seasonal route to the Hinterlands.

Clan Lavellan, though wary of humans to the point of bloodshed at times, were always welcoming to other clans. This group had been as well, both Keepers meeting with arms wide open and hearts full of welcome.

Ashila had only begun to mature into an adolescent- ears growing and breasts budding. She was a year away from receiving her vallaslin. A new group of elves only sparked her interest as well as her excitement, it was not often her clan was host to another group!

There had been a feast that night, both clans mingling together with song, dance, and storytelling that was both particular to each clan, and as universal as the teachings of their Creators,

Where her clan had always been wary of Ashila, labeling her a pariah because of her significant eyes, the members of the visiting clan viewed her with such interest and joy that Ashila had been grinning from ear to pointed ear the entire night. She had not smiled so hard since her mother had passed…

Many of the stories she had heard that night was of the Hinterlands. The elves of the visiting clan lived there for most of the early summer and into the autumn, only leaving the mountainous region for the warmth of Orlais plains in the winter. The Keeper had regaled her and those of her age with tales of the land as green as the Emerald Graves themselves, home to many forms of life, with earth so rich that all plants would bear a harvest in the first year they were planted! The Keeper also whispered warning of great wolves and bears that held no fear for any elf or man, and the great High Dragons that lived in the mountains, always hungry for a tasty elfen meal!

Ashila had hoped one day to take in the sight of such a place, and she finally was going to have her wish. They had traveled with Leliana's scouts, pushing ahead before Cullens men were to arrive. to the Hinterlands. They did this with all haste to find and protect Mother Giselle, the one Chantry Mother who was curious enough (or batty enough) to see and speak to Ashila.

When they had finally reached the Inquisition camp that was hidden in the hills by towering evergreens, The scouts ran about, relaying messages to their captains and pairing off to do reconnaissance of the land around them. The chatter was constant, but soft enough that their position would not be hopped out of the wagon herself and the companions rode in on and walked to the cliffs edge, ready to take in the vast beauty she had been told tales of when she was small.

It truly was a sight to hills and snow peaked mountains surrounded them on all sides. Great waterfalls cascading down into flowing rivers, reflecting the bright sun. Great pines were spread far and wide, coloring the landscape with deep greens like emeralds.

It would have been magnificent if everything in sight had not been engulfed in flames.

The trees below were burning like torches, their limbs cracking from the heat as the fires jumped to the surrounding wood. The blue waters ran with a tinge of red in their depths, a sign that the amount of blood flowing into the rivers was great. And the peaceful silence was torn asunder by the screams of battle and the wails of those caught in the crossfire.

To those watching, they saw the Herald taking in the madness below with a blank expression, looking on with an air of pensiveness, But her heart wept silently at the destruction that she saw, her stomach writhing with sickness at the bloodcurdling screams of those who battled with swords and staffs.

"Lady Herald?"

Ashila slowly turned, happy to have a reason to turn away from the chaos. She looked at the dwarf woman before he, inspecting her light armor and her sun kissed face while she saluted.

"Scout Harding, your Worship. I see you have made yourself familiar to what we are dealing with here in the Hinterlands."

A few meters off, a stray fireball flew into the trees overhead, startling some scouts as burning debris fell on their armor. Ashila pursed her lips at the sight before turning back to Scout Harding.

"It appears that you have an overabundance of problems keeping you on your toes."

Harding snorted at Ashila's sarcasm.

"You can put it like that." Harding then motioned for Ashila to follow her. They walked to the edge again, gazing down at the mages and soldiers fighting below.

"After what happened at the Conclave, it has been nothing but this for days. Both parties are working to assert their control in the chaos: rouge Templars taking the Right of Annulment to a whole new level, and the renegade Mages who have gone mad with power." Harding looking up to Ashila, her face grim.

"In the middle of all this are the refugees," she pointed out to the west, where over a small cluster of hills Ashila could see The Crossroads, filled to the brim with tents,

"They're trying to find somewhere, anywhere, to get away from the fighting. But every day the fighting gets closer and closer to the Crossroads. it is only a matter of time till their innocent casualties of the war."

"Do the refugees have supplies to last them?" Ashila asked, eyes catching the sight of homes burning from Mages fire, praying that no one had been inside when it set aflame.

Harding shook her head,"My scouts tell me they barely have enough stale bread to last them the week. Their hunters have tried to trap for food, but getting past the fighting is impossible, and that makes sending supplies in a suicide mission."

Ashila's face blanched at the thought.

"And the Mother, she is down there?"

Harding's nodded. "We had a small window to get her out and to safety, but when the fighting started again, she refused to leave the refugees."

Ashila ran her unMarked hand through her white hair, pulling at the roots in frustration.

"Perfect. So our only option to parade through the fireworks to get to her. Of course that is the only way."

Harding, despite the grisly situation, chuckled at the Herald's exasperation. "I suppose the only way for the Herald to meet Mother Giselle is to quench the fires."

Ashila pursed her lips, sending Harding a look that had her coughing into her hand to keep her laughter to herself.

Rolling her eyes, Ashila bid her farewell to Harding, walking back over to her companions who were doing last minute checks on their supplies. Cassandra looked up, securing her healing potions to her belt.

"Herald, are we ready to begin?"

Ashila focused her glare on Cassandra, the _word_ making her bristle.

"Didn't I ask you to _not_ call me that, Cassandra?"

Cassandra did not so much as flinch at the little elf's begrudging look, instead having the gall to look down at her with an almost bored look.

"You are the one who has been sent by the Maker, and there is no other title that will tell help the people understand what you are and what you will do."

"Yes, but-"

"No, 'buts', Herald." Cassandra deadpanned, placing her shield on her back. "We have more important things to focus our energies on instead of correcting titles."

Ashila's cheeks puffed slightly, her jaw working on the ire that refused to be swallowed.

"Well- fine!" She turned from the smug look on the female warriors face, pointing down the hill to the destruction. "Let's just go find the damned Chantry woman."

Varric had been watching the exchange in quiet amusement, tuning the strings on Bianca to her perfect settings. He caught sight of where Ashila had pointed, took one look at the scenery, and turned back to her with a look that clearly questioned her sanity.

"Glow, you do know that there are mages down there ready to burn us to a crispy, grisly, heap?"

"Yep."

"And if that doesn't kill us, the rogue Templars will have no problem skewering what is left of our charred corpses?"

"Wouldn't have it any other way."

"Ah, good. Just wanted to be sure."

Solas listened to the conversations of his companions silently. He busied himself with strapping his potions to his belt, the vials clinking against his wolf jaw necklace as he bent over to inspect. He nodded, satisfied, and having accounted for all his supplies, he closed the pack beside him and swung it around, placing it on his shoulders with ease.

He looked down upon the destruction, his expression much like Ashila's, before reaching for the twisted wood of his staff, lifting himself from the rock he sat upon. He walked over to the younger elf, letting his staff lead the way. But his bare feet moving with such deftness and honed skill, toes before heel, that he could easily react to any element that could seek to harm him.

Ashila was also bare feet. Something she secretly relished. To feel the earth between her toes as she dug them into the grass and dirt brought a peace to her that she could not find in Haven. Though she had gotten used to the boots that Harriet had so graciously made for her, she still could not handle their restriction on her feet.

Solas stood beside Ashila, his calm and commanding presence flowing around her like the touch of his magic.

Immediately Ashila sobered. Though used to his presence, still felt her skin shudder as it puckered with gooseflesh. The air always seemed to hum with energy around him. But his energy never felt threatening to her, instead rippling respectively around her personal space, as if to let her know it was simply there. But being in close proximity seemed to fill her with unusual and unexplainable energy.

Ashila let her eyes travel to his face, not enjoying how small her Haran made her feel.

"Death. The air is thick with it." he said, gazing out to the figures battling below. "While either side stands, the refugees remain at risk to their madness." He looked down to Ashila, the icy blue of his eyes causing her spine to straighten to attention.

"We must move quickly, Da'Len. Many lives could be snuffed out if we tarry."

Ashila nodded silently, adjusting her own pack to where it sat comfortably between her shoulder blades.

"Aye, Haren. There is no time to waste. Are we ready to move?" The question she directed back to Varric and Cassandra, both of which had come up on either side of the two elves.

"Let us begin." Cassandra confirmed, staring ahead with an air of determination that bolstered the team, matching her intent. Ashila grabbed the waterskin tied to her belt. Taking a swig of the liquor inside and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she turned back to her companions as she returned the skin to its place at her side.

"Alright, let's take a walk."

The scouts saluted as they made their way through the brush, navigating their way down the slope. The rich brown of the bark on the trees surrounding them slowly began to blacken and charr, bearing the hardships of fire the mages let loose on the land. The same was for the brush and grass they walked upon, The usually soft turf underfoot was prickly and hard, smarting Ashila's feet as they kept themselves hidden in the bramble.

The finally reached level ground, the heat of the burning homes that stood near the forest edge where they crouched stinging their skin. Through the sweltering flames they saw firsthand the horrors that had struck the land. The ringing of steel and mad laugher of the rogue Templars mixed with the shrieks and chants of the Mages, both parties fighting with almost inhuman capabilities.

It was as Scout Harding had told her, with each passing minute the fighting moved, inch by bloody inch towards the wooden towers of the Crossing. Ashila's hawk-like gaze saw the guards of the barricade letting loose a hail of arrows on the fighters that came too close to their proximity. But the few that they killed did not seem to affect the sheer numbers of power drunk mages and Templars that continued to fight. Soon they would reach the wall, and that wall would burn just like the forest around them.

Ashila hissed at the sight. "We need to take out that cluster, if we try to go around they'll be on the Crossroads in a matter of hours."

"I agree, we cannot ignore the danger they present." Cassandra agreed, her gloved hand digging into the tree that she crouched behind.

"Perhaps some may yet be reasoned with." Solas offered in a hushed whisper.

At that moment a great arc of lightning ran astray from whatever target it was aimed at, striking the tree that the group had huddled near. The companions, startled, covered their heads and closed their eyes, hissing as burning flecks of the once proud tree fell around them. Large branches cracked like snapping bone and dropped like rocks, landing with a force that would have caused serious injury if one had been in its way.

Ashila gave Solas an infuriated look, pulling crisped bits of wood from her hair.

"You want one of _them_ in our ranks? I'll sooner let them roast me for supper than trust them to watch my back!"

The hard look Solas had given her at the outburst had her growling, unable to keep herself in check under his cool gaze.

"Try as you might to convince them, they are too far gone to listen to reason." She snapped, standing and signaling her companions to follow.

Weapons at the ready, the companions broke through the brush at a sprint, Two rogue mages were the first to see them. Immediately assuming that they were among the ranks of those who hunted their lives, they let their magic flare like a threatened animal with it's hackles raised. Fire and lightning flew from their spinning staffs, streaming towards the group with the intent to kill the rogue elf that lead the charge.

But the Herald had been well rested and cared for, her muscles and bones moving like a well oiled machine and her feet were one with the ground she ran on. Ashila broke from her formation, sprinting into the battle with such speed it left her companions in her dust.

Her toes dug into the earth as she nimbly ducked low, the ball of fire singing a few stray hairs as it passed easily overhead. Her pause was only for a moment, her momentum still rolling strong as she then lept to the side, the lightning smiting the ground where she had been milliseconds before.

Her distraction had been effective. Now that the Mage's mana was low, her companions were able to retaliate without fear of rebuttal. Solas stalked through the smoking debris, bolts of arcane energy firing from the tip of his staff in time with his steps like a destructive dance. His face was a mask of calm even as the fire Mage retaliated with his own bursts of flame,

Solas appeared almost bored as he swayed back and forth, the rhythm of his attacks hitting their mark and his steps guiding him past the flames. He then raised his staff high above his head, spinning it with great momentum as it gathered his mana to it's crystal point. He then brought the staff down, the end striking the ground hard as it discharged a barrage of energy that struck the offending Mage with enough force to send him flying.

The one that was wielding lightning had been pinned down by Bianca's love (in the form of bolts desiring to turn him into a lovely pincushion), and with the remainder of his mana had raised a shield to cover his escape.

Ashila saw her opening and dived into the shadows, appearing behind the Mage just as he turned to flee. His eyes bugged out of their sockets. The boy was young, so young he only had a small patch of peach fuzz for a beard. Ashila, in that brief moment, felt pity for him. He was much younger than herself, and she was only in her mid twenties.

"Lay down your arms and cease this madness, we are not here to hurt you." She said to him, daring to hope that Solas was right, that there would be some that would see sense past all this madness.

The young mage opened his mouth, whether to respond or recite an incantation to retaliate, Ashila knew not. He instead made a strangled gurgling sound as blood filled his throat and gushed from the opening a black feathered arrow had made when flew by the point of Ashila's ear, lodging itself in his neck.

She turned, daggers raised reflexively. Luckily she did, for the blade that would have embedded itself in her skull was deflected by her parry. The Templar wielding the blade, snarled at her, eyes burning with a dark madness. He raised his arm to strike again, but Ashila slashed at the bare skin of his armpit, muscles and tendons slicing from her steel. He screamed, arm falling limply against his chest plate. His teeth ground together, his eyes staring at his useless and bloodied arm.

His head slowly cranked to start at the white haired knife-ear, body shaking in senseless anger. His undamaged arm raised, and though his sword lay in the grass, he brought his armored fist down to crush her head.

She raised her Breach-touched hand, the length of her dagger holding his massive forearm at bay, inches from her eyes. The human towered over her, and his strength was tenfold hers. Her arm shook with the force he bared down upon her, the Mark flashing and spitting at its wielders struggle.

The chaos of her surroundings spun around her as she gazed through his helmet, so close that she could see into the whites of his eyes as she shook with her own exertion. Baring her teeth, she gripped the other dagger hard, mustering her strength to strike her dagger _anywhere._ It deflected off his armor and bit deep into his neck to where blood flowed in a red stream, but still his strength did not relent.

His fist came down again, and her blade pierced his flesh again _and again_. But the beast of a man did not relent.

His smile was sickening, and Ashila's lips curled in a snarl at the sight.

Ashila then dropped to her knees, the movement was so sudden that it took the monster Templar by surprise. The force that he had exerted on Ashila was turned against him, causing him to lose his balance. As he toppled forth, Ashila flipped the dagger in her hand and raised it high, bringing the point of the blade down into the exposed gap between his helmet and armor.

A sickening gurgle came as his body spasmed, his nervous system severed.

Ashila heaved herself to her feet. Kicking the still Templars head to ensure he was, in fact, dead, she raised her bloodied face to her companions that had finished off the archer that had accompanied the man at her feet.

His fate, despite Cassandra's appeals to his reason and sanity, had been the same as the dead Templar warrior.

Cassandra's sword made loud squelching noises as she removed it from the arches chest cavity. Wiping the bits off her sword into the grass, she eyed Ashila worriedly as she walked over, her bloodied appearance quite the spectacle.

"Are you injured, Herald?"

Ashila snorted. Gesturing to the blood still dripping from her chin and hair she simply responded, "Not mine."

Cassandra could not help but smirk, saying nothing except 'Good.' and nodding approvingly.

Varric holstered Bianca, regarding the destruction disdainfully. "They've all gone completely mad."

Cassandra surveyed the land as well, her face grim as always.

"With the Chantry in turmoil over Her Most Holy's death, they all are trying to vie for power over the other."

Solas leaned on his staff. His blue eyes wandered the land, and he too deemed it perilous. "And no doubt in their demented struggle for control the refugees have paid their price."

Ashila attempted to wipe the blood off her face as she listened, but only succeeded in smearing it even further. The entire situation was dreadful, to say the least. Ashila knew the parameters of her mission well; Cullen had drilled into her head even as she was walking out the gates of Haven: '_Find the Mother, get her out, get back to Haven_'. It was a simple task, made effortless by the fact her advisers did not want her to linger in the Hinterlands longer than necessary. And though she did not like nor dislike humans, she did not know if she could find it in herself to leave the land in this state.

Solas raised his staff to point ahead, bringing her out of her thoughts.

"Look. Survivors."

A woman and man huddled behind a collapsed house, their two children cowering, tiny fingers clutching their mothers skirts. They must have been trying to reach the Crossroads by keeping out of sight of the warring mages and Templars, but the final stretch to the barricade was an open area filled with bodies, fighting, and fire.

Ashila jerked her head their way, and the others nodded, following her sprint. The woman's head jerked up. Seeing the companions sprinting towards them, she gasped faintly, eyes wide in insurmountable fear as she clutched her little ones to her bosom. The man pulled them behind his back, ready to fight- and die, if he had to. Ashila raised her hand in a gesture of goodwill, hoping that they would not think to run from them.

The only place they could run to was straight into the blades and fires of the fighters.

The man allowed them to walk slowly closer to them, but he kept his arm stiff on his wife and children behind him, the sounds of battle putting them on edge.

"Greetings. You are trying to get to the Crossing, yes?" Ashila called out over the din, barely flinching as Solas raised a barrier around them, deflecting a blast of fire. The children cried out into their mothers chest, the damage had been absorbed but the heat of the flames still made them shake and flinch.

"Aye, my lady." The man hesitantly hollered back, his long, tired face blackened by soot and beard singed.

Varric let loose a wave of bolts onto charging templars, the sound of their metal bodies crashing to the ground a relieving sound. But many had noticed the group and had slowly begun to stalk their way towards them.

"Uh, folks. This is really not the best damn place to chat!" Varric growled, bringing down a mage.

Ashila knew there was little time before they would be overrun.

"Come with us." She commanded, holding out her left hand. The Mark flared to life in front of the mans eyes, and despite his resolve, deflated at the sight of her touched hand.

"You, you're her-"

"There is _no bloody time_ for titles." She snapped, causing the man to shudder out of his stupor. "The battle is heading in our direction, and I am not waiting to be caught in this clusterfuck."

The man said nothing, still staring as her words washed over.

The sounds of battle were now pounding on her ears. The barrier Solas had raised was beginning to crack like ice. Cassandra had her shield at the ready, roaring a warning to the oncoming foes that made them pause.

Ashila was at the end of her patience.

"By the Creator's, will you come with us or _DIE?"_ she screamed at him.

That seemed to do the trick. The man nodded, grabbing hold of his wife's arm as she told the boy and girl to be ready to run.

"Cassandra, lead the way! Solas, do whatever you must to keep your barrier around the refugees and Varric let Bianca tear the bastards to shreds if they get too close." Eyes on the ruined path, each member nodded their understanding. Ashila took a breath to steady herself.

"Go, go, go!"

They broke from behind the building, their movement startling those who had tried to flank them. Cassandra lead their charge, her great griffon shield deflecting the incoming arrows and magic as an angelic glow surrounded her, her warriors guard allowing her to take the brunt of the aggression as if it was a mere scratch. They flew across the terrain, sprinting with such force it paused much of the fighting, all turning to focus on the group that made a break for the refuge of the crossroads. It was like a lost sheep running from a pack of wolves: simply a tasty moving target for the mad men.

Many ran to overtake them, only to have a bolt from Bianca kiss them in the face, destroying their skull upon impact. Ashila ran behind with Solas and the refugees, ready to taper off if any manage to get close enough to drag them down or harm the mage, his barriers were paramount to their survival.

What Templar's stood in their way met the force of Cassandra, hitting them with the force of a wave upon the rocks. They either crumpled or were heaved to the side by her strength.

With each leap and bound the barricade loomed higher and higher. Ashila could almost breath a sigh of relief. That was, until the woman's blood curling scream rang through the sound of warfare.

"Lillian? Lillian, where are you?" The mother looked about wildly, her eyes like a panicked animal as she searched for her daughter, stopping only yards from the barricade.

Ashila felt her blood turn to ice.

_The little girl. _She thought numbly, stopping dead in her tracks. Her eyes scanned the carnage, looking for any sign of the sprite as she held the mother back from running into the chaos. But Creators, there were so many bodies…

Then she heard the faint cry. Her eyes darted to her left, locking on to the little one that had fallen over a dead Mage in the run. Her little legs could not have been able to handle such a sprint, and when the body came up she had been too small to leap over it, instead falling over and almost forgotten in their escape.

"Mama! Mama!" she sobbed, tears flowing down her red face, her eyes wide and terrified and shaking in her bloody dress.

"Lillian! My baby, _please!"_ the mother shrieked, fighting Ashila's grip.

Ashila's eyes then looked up from the girl, movement behind her catching her attention.

What she saw caught her breath, stealing that and leaving her with a sickening feeling.

He was not a far from the girl, walking with an awkward limp that gave him appearance of being possessed. His body twitched wildly with each step, dragging a broken leg behind him that should have had the man on his stomach crawling.

But he was not a man any longer.

The eyes of the elves are known to see much, and even at her distance, she could clearly make out the black that enveloped his whole eye where white should have been. She could see the twisted Cheshire cat smile, lips split and bleeding and a mouth full of jagged, broken teeth. She could see that he wore the robes of a Mage, a light green and brown that was dark with dirt and dried blood.

But what she could also see was the tendrils of red that coiled around his arm. An arm full of cuts and gashes so deep the bloody bone was protruding from the mangled flesh.

A Blood mage.

The child heard the convulsing mage stumble over a body. She turned her head slowly, her small body quaking in fear at whatever monster was behind her. At the sight of his black eyes and mad half grin half snarl, she screamed and began to crawl, trying to get to her feet. But her ankle must have been twisted, for she collapsed on the ground, only able to drag herself across the soil, wailing as the monster ambled slowly towards her.

Thought flew though Ashila's mind at the speed of light, The screaming from both the mother and the little girl dredging up memories from so long ago and forced from her mind, that their return brought an onslaught of panic, shakes, and bile to her mouth.

_Mame! Mame ar halani!_

_Emma lath! You will not have my child, beasts!_

_MAME!_

Ashila threw the woman to the side.

"**Solas!**" She screamed, her voice startling her companions to a halt, all turning in horror as they saw what was stalking the child. She had not meant to scream the Haran's name, but in her panic she knew (and desperately hoped) that he would know how to help her kill the mage. The sole thought of the other elf brought feeling back to her as the adrenaline pumped furiously through her veins.

She ran for the little girl. This was not a tactical sprint that held her usual elegance and poise, able to react to the world around her and adapt. This was a mad dash of desperation, focused on the drive to rescue the little child from the Mage that was consumed by his madness.

The Mage raised his hand toward the child, the blood that floated around him shuddered then raised high into the air, the tip crystallizing into a bloody point and poised to skewer the girl. The child, petrified, stared wide-eyed at the magic infused blood. The danger she faced was monstrous, and her fear was so far past comprehension she could only watch as the Mage made ready to strike.

Ashila refused to watch the child become another casualty to senseless murder. Her Advisers be damned-

She would not stand by.

Ashila planted her feet hard into the ground, the sudden stop giving her enough momentum to leap forward. She pounced like a great cat, diving for the child and pulling her into her chest.

They tumbled together, rolling out of the way as the Mages blood struck, the sharp point burying deep into the ground and shattering. The Mage screeched turning to the elf that had disrupted his kill.

Ashila rose to her feet quickly. She stopped low over the still grounded child, her daggers raised and glinting like her eyes, deadly and daring the Mage to attempt to strike.

The black holes of the Mages eyes burned with a deep hatred, his rage fueled by the elf that dare interfere. He would see to it that every drop of her blood would be shed by his power.

He growled, frothing at the mouth as he spread his arms wide. Blood flowed from his wounds, twisting around and aiming at the meddlesome elf. The small girl huddled close to Ashilas legs, whimpering softly.

Her eyes were unable to look away from the Mage that was like a monster out of her nightmares. Ashila crouched lower, pressing her chest to the girl as a mother animal would do to protect the cub. She waited, poised for the attack that was sure to come.

From Ashilas left came an arc of lightning. The great wave of electricity flew from behind her striking the Mage square in the chest. The attack left the Mage winded. With his concentration shattered, his blood fell to the ground, splattering across the soil and seeping into the earth.

Ashila looked back, meters away her eyes meeting the icy blue of Solas' gaze. He held his staff out with one hand gripping at its wood. His expression was hard and concentrated as he watched the Blood Mage with great intensity. His glare did not falter as he called out to Ashila, though the command in his voice was as hard as the look he had.

"Finish him. Quickly!"

Ashila did not need to be told twice. She threw herself over the child, her sights set on the

stunned Mage. Roaring fiercely, she raised her daggers high and brought them down on the Mage, driving deep into either side of his neck.

The Mage's shriek was akin to a banshee's wail.

He thrashed about, trying to throw Ashila off his dying body, but Ashila held on to her daggers, even as her hands became slick with wet blood. The Mage assaulted her with his blood magic, cutting her sides and face with his blood. But his attacks became slow, losing their ferocity as he began to crumble to the ground. He grew still, his black eyes now blank and empty, the look of hate still etched in the lines of his face as he gazed into the sky.

Ashila paused a moment longer to be sure the Mage was indeed dead, twisting her blades in his flesh. The Mage did not even blink. Satisfied, Ashila pushed herself off the corpse, rising to her feet. She pulled the blades from his neck, wiping the bits of gore and bone from the steel.

Remembering the girl, she turned around, looking down at the child who was still on the ground. The look of fear had dissipated from her, and she was unharmed, for that Ashila silently thanked the Creators. Ashila had expected the girl to still be crying, fearing even herself, but the child was watching her with wide eyes, her face dry of the tears that had been running down her face moments ago. Her mouth was hanging open, a look of awe on her face as she regarded Ashila silently. Ashila walked slowly towards the girl, for fear she would try to run from her and into more danger. She wouldn't have been surprised if the child did do such a thing: Ashila was covered head to foot in blood and dirt, it was a miracle that her hair had remained in its ponytail. Crouching to her level, she tentatively held out her unblemished hand, a kind smile on her red lips.

"Let's get you back to your mama, little one." She said softly. The child's gaze did not falter for a moment as she eagerly placed her small hands into Ashila's. Ashila swept the girl into her arms, cradling her close as she sprinted from the dark battlefield, her heart lighter than it had been in weeks.

Cassandra and Varric had ushered the girls parents and brother through the gates. They had to follow them in to keep the mother from rushing back out to help save her child, but Solas had stayed behind to ensure she had gotten to the entrance safely.

He was leaning on his staff as Ashila ran up to the gates. She the girl facing over her shoulder, one hand cradling her legs and bottom, the other holding her head to protect from whiplash as she came to a stop beside Solas. Her breathing was heavy, chest heaving from the fight and sprint she had just gone through, face slightly pink from the wind. She watched Sola's quietly, eyes darting back and forth, waiting for his input. Solas gave Ashila a knowing smile. Though her front was usually cool, and sometimes quick to decide in the heat of the moment- then again, whenever she was agitated she became as foul mouthed as a human, but seeing her panic to save the human girl…

The child turned to observe Solas, her large eyes shy and tentative while she used Ashila's white hair to hide from him. Chuckling at her, he lifted a hand to pat her mop of brown curls, causing her to emit a muffled squeal, burying her face into the crook of Ashila's neck. Solas looked over to Ashila again. "You are full of surprises, Da'Len."

He then leaned in close, whispering so close to her ear that she could feel the puffs of hot breath on her sensitive ears.

" I look forward to continuing to discover what other marvels those eyes of yours hold." Solas remained close for only a moment longer, but Ashila swore she could feel his secretive glee at her embarrassment emanating from him. He pulled away, usually icy gaze now a deep azure, brimming with mysterious intent that only served to further her flustered state. He then turned on his heel, the emotions in his eyes replaced with his usual aloofness, his robes billowing around his legs as he signaled the guards to open the gate.

"Come, let us return the child. Her parents must be anxious."

Still dumbfounded and now scarlet for a completely different reason, Ashila meekly followed Solas through the gates, finally reaching the Crossing.

The mother was in tears, but this time she was crying tears of joy as she held her child close. Both the mother and the father thanked Ashila profusely, showering her with praise and blessings for rescuing their family from certain death. Ashila could only stand awkwardly (still bloody and dirty) trying to tell them that what she had done for them was a simple act of kindness, but they refused to hear any of her words, insisting that she was a sign of Salvation for the people.

Naturally, an entrance such as this garnered the attention of every person in the vicinity.

It was all very similar to Haven, much to Ashila's dismay. Finding the Mother had become a little more exhausting, and when they did find her and Ashila was led away to talk with her in private, the weight of the eyes lifting off her had nearly driven her to relief filled tears.

Mother Giselle and Ashila talked for some time on the small hill overlooking the Crossing. The Mother spoke calmly her questions of her intentions all grace and politeness, but Ashila could feel the sharp curiosity about her, silently judging Ashila. Ashila could only answer honestly: disliking that people considered her with such a level of reverence, and that if they did nothing, the world would go to shit while the Chantry bicker over a Divine.

She must have judged her somewhat worthy, for she told her of the meetings the other Mothers all gathering in Val Royeux, hoping to present themselves as worthy Candidates for the next Divine. She counselled to go; not to gain attentions, but to spread doubt, to make them see that she could be the answer.

The entire idea was distasteful to Ashila, but she kept her thoughts below the surface, opting to nod silently.

To this the Mother nodded, approving and confirming she would return to Haven with the troops to help begin recruitment. Mother Giselle paused for a moment on the outlook. She gazed out at the people and tents below, sighing softly.

This stopped Ashila. Turning back slightly, she glanced at the Holy Woman from over her shoulder.

"Mother Giselle?" She asked softly, watching the still Mother. Mother Giselle said nothing at first, only stood and watched the flock of refugees, desperate to find some solace in the chaos.

"I honestly do not know if you've been touched by the Fade or sent to help us… but I hope."

Mother Giselle looked to Ashila, studying her. Ashila could only stand silent under her scrutiny, forcing herself to not shuffle from the nerves the Mother's gaze caused.

"These people do not have much- some have nothing at all. All they have is hope. With you here, that hope can be attained. The people will listen to your rallying call, as they will listen to no other. You could build the Inquisition into a force that will deliver us… or destroy us."

Ashila's nose scrunched at the Mothers words. Mother Giselle could only laugh softly at her frustration. She knew the elf had misgivings and fears of what such a position could do, but it was those who looked at power with distrust rather than eagerness that were the ones that brought true change to the world long ago.

She could do the same.

"I will go to Haven," Mother Giselle continued, causing Ashila to look up from her musings. "There things I could tell Sister Leliana, such as the names of those within the Chantry who would be amenable to a gathering. Tis not much, but I shall do what I can." The Mother bowed her head towards Ashila."I can be ready to leave by first light tomorrow."

Ashila had heard what the Mother had said, and was happy to have her support. But as she stared out over the Crossing, she could not help but feel guilt well up in her heart. The dangers these refugees faced had begun because of what happened at the Temple. As indirect as her role was, she could not help but feel some responsibility, even though a lot of it had begun long before her involvement.

"My Lady?" Mother Giselle pressed gently, confused by the distant look in Ashila's eyes.

She knew Cullen would have her head for this.

Bleeding hearts of the world unite.

Ashila cleared her throat loudly, causing the Mother to blink in surprise.

"Mother Giselle," Ashila began, taking advantage of her confusion, "I regret to inform you that you shall be returning to Haven with a few of my troops, unfortunately I must remain here in the Hinterlands." At her perplexed look, Ashila sheepishly and unconvincingly added: "Varric was wounded, needs to recover."

At her obvious white lie, Mother Giselle smiled softly and nodded in understanding.

"I shall let your Advisers know that extra time was needed so that you and your companions could return safely."

Ashila lead Mother Giselle over to Scout Harding and the other soldiers and scouts that had begun to file into the Crossroads. After informing Harding of the new plans (and receiving a sly look from the scout) the three women parted ways' Harding and Mother Giselle left to get her things packed and ready for her trip back to Haven, and Ashila returned to her companions to inform them of their prolonged stay and to ensure they would get proper rest that night.

There was work to be done in the morning.

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><p>What did we think? Part two will be coming the weekend after next I promise! Maybe even sooner if I can get it done and fine tuned in time as well!<p>

Elvish words said: Mame! Mame ar halani! - Mom! Mom help me! / Emma Lath- My love


	10. Chapter 9: The hinterlands Burn Part II

Hey guys! Surprise I have with me Chapter 9! Ok, the reason I have it out so early is because the entirety of the chapter before was over 20 pages, so I decided it would be better to split it up, seeing as how I am still trying to finish all the edits in the new chapter 10! I hope you all enjoy as usual and I hope you tell me what you think of the chapter! I only own Ashila, as you all know BIOWARE gets the rest.

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><p>Chapter 9: The Hinterlands Burn Part 2.<p>

The sounds of warblers and sparrows flitted in through the flaps of her tent. The life of the forest hummed around the sleeping pack that Ashila was dreaming in. The sounds of the wind flowing past the trees around the camp carried the chatter of the wood, and a great bellow of a bear echoed was carried out of her dreamings by the sounds of all the creatures that resided in the Hinterlands. She sighed, stretching her muscles till they were heated with a satisfying burn.

She lifted her arm over her eyes, the burning red of the early morning sun visible even through the tent cloth was painfully bright. Despite the minor sun, Ashila was feeling as well rested as ever. In the two weeks they had been in the Hinterlands, the sleep had come easier under the starry heavens. The life of the woods and the earth so close had always been a solace she could wrap herself in.

She believed that the wood- any wood- had a soul of it's own. This soul was made up by all the beings that lived in or who benefited from the wood. When the wood was hurt, the trouble would overflow onto those who needed the great forests. When she had arrived, it had been so hard to sleep because the wood howled it's pain in a neverending fever that had struck it thanks to the war. But now, the wood she woke too had been somewhat alleviated. The wounds it bore were still there, and would continue to need time to heal. But their decision to remain to assist in putting what little they could into fixing the problem now had strengthened the hope that things would return to some form of normality.

Ashila pulled back the flaps of her tent, eyes squinting from the morning sunlight. She lifted herself out, feet sinking slightly into the damp earth. Their encampment had been scorched by the fighting, grass black from the burns. But now baby sprouts had begun to appear, sensing that it was safe to grow again.

Their bright green blades brushed against the pads of Ashila's feet, drops of morning dew left on her skin as a reminder of their soft touch. She filled her lungs with the crisp morning air, basking in the warm rays of the sun.

Yes, the wood was thankful they had stayed. The feelings that surrounded her were all of gentle thanks, as were the villagers that the companions had begun to protect.

At first, the refugees watched them with astounded uncertainty. In awe of their titles and the simple fact the strange elven Herald they had heard so many stories about was here protecting them!

Now they greeted Ashila and her companions with warm smiles that were from ear to ear. Joyous they were whenever they stepped into town, their praise had been startling at first, causing Ashila to turn beet red and make herself as small as possible. Now she took their kindness with a bashful smile and quiet thanks (her face was always red still).

Ashila reached for her water skin and towels. She had a small ritual that she always began the day with, one which she fell into with ease. She woke up with the sun, at least an hour before Cassandra or Solas would rise (3 hours before Varric managed to stop snoring and roll out of bed), and then greet the scouts that were up from the graveyard watch. She would then bathe in the stream that ran down from the mountains, bringing glacier water that was always freezing and ready to wake her up with its chill.

It was to this very stream she was heading to at this from the wine in her skin as she nodded a silent hello to the scouts that sat upon the rock outcropping. They greeted her with "Mi'lady" and "Lady Herald", their tones weary and ready for their well-deserved sleep. They watched her till they were sure she would be safe on the path for her morning bathing.

Ashila had gone from a wild card to someone who was of worth in their eyes. She was skilled with her blades, and she used them with such finesse that they seemed to almost sing as they felled many foes. But she was also secretly kind. Her choice to remain in Hinterlands to assist in the relief effort, had a big impact on the moral. Many of the troops had family or a home in that area of Ferelden. Worries about the elf were beginning to disappear in the soldier's mind, especially with how much of herself she gave to their missions.

It was hard not to be rallied by her silent determination.

Ashila walked down the slope of the hill, gently pushing the branches of the firs that blocked off their hidden camp on the outcrop facing over the Crossing. Her damp feet takings careful steps to not alert her presence to any wildlife and disturb them. The rushing of water came softly to her wiggling ears, quickening her pace. The flowing river came into view as she rounded a tall oak tree.

The river was bright and glistening, the sun reflecting brightly off water as it rushed by. The temperature was cool, the touch of the early winter had not yet chilled the waters that were still warm from the autumn. Ashila undressed, folding her clothes and small clothes neatly in a pile on one of large rocks around her. She sipped at her wine once more to warm herself before wading slowly into the water. She hissed, the cool water making her body shiver as the wind blew over her damp skin.

She had brought with her a small vile. In it was pine oil that a woman in the Crossroads had begged her to take a few days ago- a sign of her gratitude. Ashila let her mind wander, humming absentmindedly and running her fingers through her hair to let the oil soak.

They had done much in their time here. In the first week they had been able to get supplies to the refugees to help them prepare for the winter. One of the first things she had seen to was the problem of getting good game while the Mages and Templar's fought. The first day alone she had dragged several fat Rams back to the lead hunter.

Once his face had lifted off the ground from his shock, he followed Ashila around for a good five minutes giving her thanks. The gratitude was so unexpected that the grateful hunter had Ashila tripping over in embarrassment, namely into Cassandra, who gave such a disapproving huff at the sight.

Ashila continued to reminisce about the weeks events. Closing her eyes, she submerged herself to rise her hair.

It was not that she didn't like their praise- it was a change she enjoyed. But it was also something that she had not seen much of in her life. Her clan had always kept her at arms length, pleased with her hunting abilities and fighting prowess, but she was a great concern to them always. The girl that was the Fen'Vhenan was not someone to be easily trusted.

Ashila breached the waters surface,brushing her soaking white hair from her face.

One of the few perks of this Inquisition business was the fact no one treated her like an outcast, she mused to herself. This was true- though many had regarded her petrified white hair and mismatched eyes with great shock and apprehension, they all took to her unusual appearance with a much better grace then her elvhen brethren ever did! The only one who could possibly know of the significance of her black and white eyes was Solas, but he treated her as an equal (though as a child, in some cases) and thus she assumed he was not bothered by her appearance.

Speaking of appearance… Ashila rubbed her Marked hand over the healing burn that lay on the left side of her chest and ribcage. She soaked the burn gently, and though it stung and smoldered angrily, she felt triumphant. A few days ago she had been scouting with Harding towards the Northeast of the Crossing. Though they had managed to procure the blankets Wittle had asked Ashila to find to distribute to the refugees, the spires of ice that marked the land they were in piqued their curiosity, driving them further into the wood.

There they had found the encampment of the rebel Mages, many of whom sported self inflicted gashes as they gave into the desire for Blood Magic to save themselves. The others looked weary and terrified, huddling together for solace in each other.

Thankfully, the two had not been spotted and raced back to the camp. Ashila rallied the men, telling them that in the evening they would march upon the Mages.

"Kill all that attack, but those who surrender, spare them. They did not want this madness to go this far." She had told them, earning silent approval from Varric and Solas.

They marched with a great speed, coming down upon the Mages with a fervor that even their fires could not overwhelm. Many of the ones she had seen huddled together surrendered to them immediately, wishing to be part of the fighting no more. The others, the ones already affected by Blood Magic, were not so compliant.

They had been victorious, and came away with only minor injuries. Ashila's had been a part of the worst ones, but Solas personally saw to her healing. It was in those quiet moments together Solas would relish in flustering Ashila with his comments on how she had been so quick to defend a young mage that would have been roasted alive if she had not stepped in.

"I do not mean to sound disapproving, Da'len." He said softly, his cool and calloused fingers gliding over the inflamed skin causing her to hiss. "I am quite astonished that you went to such lengths to protect our prisoners."

"You were right in the end, Haren. They did not want this," she replied, agitated, her burning skin distracting her. "When they saw the path they were headed down, they saw the madness, and wanted no part of it."

Solas had not said anything for a time, simply spreading a salve over her skin quietly.

"I should continue to expect many things out of you Da'len." He whispered, more to himself. "I have not been surprised by a youngling in many ages."

Ashila had heard his whispers, but said nothing, only flushing in the darkness as he saw to the rest of her burn.

After scrubbing herself clean of any dirt, Ashila waded back to the shore, glistening from the water that dripped off her. She thought her new lot in life was very unusual and life threatening- to say the least. But as she dried her hair and body, she had to admit that this change was not so bad. She bandaged up her small breasts, smiling to herself as she clothed herself in her rouge garments.

Yes, this was a nice change. Her companions were spirited and rough, but each held a private kindness that only came out when it was spurned. Cassandra's faith was like a rock, and she put the words of her religion into practice by seeking to help every refugee she could, as well as using herself as a defence for them. Varric used his tales to open their hearts, filling them with wonder and hope and removing any fears and doubts that dwelled.

And Solas: Solas surprised her the most. She should have not been so astounded- Solas had proven himself to be different than any other elf she knew. But in their time here she was able to see his wisdom and care little by little.

She knew he was a quiet elf, like herself. he was so mysterious, that whatever he said to anyone usually had a deeper meaning that could never be read in his eyes. But he did so many little things: some mornings he would venture out on his own, returning with so many herbs that the healers would be stocked till the end of the week, and he would sometimes assist in the healings of the soldiers who were ever fearful of this strange elvhen mage. He did so many small things and Ashila knew she had only scratched the surface of her elder. And for all his seriousness and knowledge, he was always so aloof, with that secretive smile he always had whenever their eyes met.

A blush rose to her face. She silently chastised herself as she put her lockpicks into place on her belt.

It was improper to have such thoughts towards an elder, especially one whom she would never truly know.

But his coy expressions always pulled her eyes, and his knowledge drew her in. Creators save her, what was she to do?

"To start, a little more wine." She said to herself, gulping down another mouthful of wine. If she was to deal with this infatuation to the beguiling elf, she would need a lot more wine to get through the day.

Fully clothed and hair still damp, she wrapped her marked hand in the leather glove she had picked up in the Crossroads. The sight of the Mark had always made her feel ill, and it only served as a reminder to how 'touched' she was.

As if she had nothing else to prove that point.

But this blemish could be hidden, unlike the others, and she did so with gusto, tying the glove on tightly to ensure it would not come off unless she willed it. Ashila hiked back into the wood, up the slope to return to her camp and her companions. She could hear Varric's snore from the base of the hill, which had been irritating at first and kept her from a full sleep and was now a comfort to her and helped her sleep. Rolling her eyes, Ashila passed Varric's tent (the snores now like horns), her eyes looking over the camp, assessing it. A few scouts were seated about a blazing fire that was in the center of the tents, smells of sausages and gruel wafting from a pan that made Ashila's stomach gurgle hopefully. They all appeared tired, but their eyes were bright and their expressions calm, no doubt relieved that the Hinterlands were slowly being rescued.

The tips of Solas' feet were visible through his tent flaps. The elder elf slept in when he could, his travels in the Fade probably more exciting than what they dealt with in the physical world, Ashila thought to herself glumly.

The bashing of steel against wood caught her attention. Looking up, Ashila saw Cassandra hacking at one of the wooden dummies that were set up for practice. Walking closer, she noticed that the dummy had many chunks hacked out of it, and Cassandra was very close to hacking its fake head off!

"You might need stronger dummies." She commended lightly, sitting on a rock to watch Cassandra.

She snorted in response, her sword never slowing as she continued to assault the poor dummy.

"You flatter me." she grunted, taking a bite out of the left side of her dummy's head.

Ashila chuckled softly.

"Maybe steel?" She offered, running her hands through her damp hair to get the knots out.

Cassandra was silent for a time. She lifted her sword high to strike, but instead slowly brought it back to her side.

"Did I do the right thing?" she questioned out loud. Ashila tilted her head to the side, curious as to what the Seeker was talking about. She was about to ask before Cassandra continued.

"What I have set in motion here could destroy everything I have revered my whole life."

Cassandra chuckled grimly, wiping the sheen from her brow.

"One day, they may write about me as a traitor, a mad woman, a fool! They may be right."

Ashila pondered her words, chewing the inside of her lip in thought.

"I do not think there was any other had no choice." she responded softly, looking off into the distance.

"Didn't I?" Cassandra asked, looking at Ashila and catching her eye.

Cassandra sighed. She sheathed her sword, walking over to Ashila's right side and standing beside the rock she sat on.

Cassandra chucked, reminiscing: "My trainers always told me: "Cassandra, you are too brash! You must think before you act."

Ashila could not help but imagine a much younger Cassandra, practicing her trademark huff as her trainers chastised her.

"I see what must be done, and I do it! I see no point in running around in circles like a dog chasing it's tail."

Ashila nodded, understanding Cassandra's point of view, Cassandra only wanted to do what needed to be done, and she could not hold it against her because she always tried to do the right thing, even when Ashila was on the sword end of it.

"But I misjudged you in the beginning, did I not? I thought the answer was right before me, clear as day."

Ashila pursed her lips together, looking everywhere but to Cassandra's hard gaze in hopes she would not be offended that she completely agreed with what she had said.

Cassandra, seeing her pretending to not notice her, chuckled at her actions.

"Pretend as you do, I was wrong. I cannot afford to be so careless again."

Ashila fidgeted a moment before replying.

"Well, it wasn't like you had no reason to suspect me. I mean, let's face it: glowing hand that fits well with the giant gash in the sky. All that was missing was the horns of declaration that I was guilty."

Cassandra rolled her eyes, snorting. She then looked at Ashila, mulling over a thought.

"You have made it obvious that you do not believe you are chosen. Does that mean… you do not believe in the Maker?"

Ashila grimaced slightly. Talk of religion was never a topic that stayed on a smooth course, often opting for more turbulent waters. She chose her words carefully, not wishing to anger the bull that could be the Seekers anger.

"I know of your religion, I have read on it somewhat. And no I do not believe, I would say to some that I believe in the Elvhen God's, but even now I am very doubtful of them." Ashila could not stop the dark chuckle, "Anything concerning them have only brought me misery.

"So you believe in nothing?" Cassandra stated, forcing Ashila to keep a groan down.

"I believe in my own ability to keep myself alive." she said simply. Ashila left out that she believed that Cassandra and her cause should not believe in her. She never was good at keeping people safe, and if Cassandra heard her say that she could very well be her new dummy for practice!

Cassandra did not approve of Ashila's answer, for she could never think to live a life where she could not rely on her God. But she did not choose to use her for sword practice, instead conversing with her like a normal person.

"Well, I have to believe we were put on this path for a reason, even if you do not."

Ashila smiled to Cassandra, relieved that the conversation remained light and did not hurt any feelings.

"If it means anything to you, I am happy to have your belief." She said softly, her mismatched eyes shining with quiet thanks.

Cassandra grunted awkwardly in response. Pushing Ashila off the rock she nodded towards the group of scouts.

"I heard talk of a letter coming to you from the Commander. Go see what he wishes of us and I will wake our comrades."

Ashila groaned.  
>"Creators, what does he want this time!" she exclaimed. Waving to Cassandra, she made her way to the scouts main tent.<p>

The last time Cullen had written to her personally, it had been about four days after her decision to stay in the Crossroads and send Mother Giselle ahead to Haven.

One of Leliana's black ravens had come bearing a letter, sealed in wax with a lions head, maw open in the dark red of the wax. Harding had given it to her, the raven still resting on her shoulder from the flight.

When she had opened it, she had only expected a debriefing of what was happening in Haven, but instead she got a chastising letter filled with, diminutive descriptions of how she was not to stray so far from the plans set by the advisers (all told in sugar coated niceties to lessen the blow.)

_He speaks to me as if I am a child to him!_ she realized, outraged.

This was not the case, however. When Cullen had finally found enough time in his schedule to even write the letter, the sky was black in deep night, and he was weary and irritable from the days training's. One lad had it in his mind to speak back to him when he assigned the mornings drills. That boy then succeeded in receiving Manure Duty for the stables _and_ human wastes for the foreseeable future.

Another before dinner managed to receive a blow to the head so hard that it crumpled his helmet, tightening to his head so finely that the Blacksmith had to break it open and manage to not cave the boys head in.

He had miss dinner, as much of the food in Haven was short in stock and there was not much to even go around, and so he was mad with hunger and simply wanted to go to bed to get this blasted day over with!

So when he wrote to the Herald, he did not write in the mindset of this unusual woman whose peculiar eyes always seemed to hold his a moment longer, bemusing and stupefying him.

No, he instead wrote to her as another blasted trainee that got _another _simple job wrong and he needed to list out _exactly_ what he needed them to do. And he was not in the least bit sympathetic.

So, when the black raven flew into his open window one morning a few days later, and he took the letter, surprised at the note and suddenly _very_ awake when he saw it was from The Herlad (her writing was very hard to read, as if she did not write much). He opened it hastily, his sleepiness forgotten.

His face was priceless. It was slack from still waking up, but it dropped even more as he deciphered the Heralds terrible chicken scratch writing as she wrote to him to 'stuff his orders' and to 'accept the fact that this will be how she runs her missions.'

_If you do not approve of my decisions, then you may tell me in which case I can tell you to piss off!_

When he had been able to translate and read the letter _several _times, Cullen leaped from the bed and nearly fell out of his bunk into the study below in an effort to get to a spare bit of parchment. The small letter was filled to the brim with apologies, begging Ashila to forgive him for not realizing how he was writing.

From then on, any letters she received were very polite in their tone, requesting her to consider some choices while they were in the Hinterlands instead of ordering her.

This letter was no different, Cullen now taking great care whenever he wrote to Ashila.

Today the letter she received was one of opportunity, one that the Inquisition sorely needed:

_I hope this letter finds you well, Lady Herald. _

_We have been seeing a great rise in troop recruitment, specifically coming out of the Hinterlands. I suspect this might have something to do with whatever you are meddling with down there. _(he sometimes could never resist making a small jab, it was how he write. But Ashila found it silly, chuckling at his sarcasm.)

_It only means more mouths to feed, I fear, some don't know their own ass from their head. (_**that** got a laugh out of her)

_Besides that, I am writing to inform you of a possible recruitment option that has just been discovered. We had believed Master Dennet, the Horsemaster to the King of Ferelen, has been located, alive. If we were able to convince him of the Inquisitions cause and possibly have some of his horses (or him, preferably), it would mean a great bolster in our army as well as overall boost in morale. Many of these boys are from those lands, and knowing they were on the backs of their best horses would help.\_

_Unfortunately, the scouts believe that the rebel Templar camp is between you and Dennet's lands, and are even threatening him. Stop the Templars and show Dennet we mean business, get him on our side and we could begin to make strides for the Inquisition. _

_As always, be careful out there, Lady Herald._

_Commander Cullen_

Ashila rolled the letter up carefully, letting her fingertips rest on the broken lion insignia. The Commander was correct, having a horse master would do wonders for the men, especially if it was one that was the legend of Fereldens calvary. The Templars had also been something she was preparing to march on. Their encampment had been easy to find- the busted bridge over the river (that lead to Dennet's land, apparently) had been where they were held up. The rain of arrows they had let loose from their position had Ashila and the group backing up, and had been something they were preparing to march on.

Now that it was as simple as killing two birds with one stone, Ashila knew exactly what her team was doing today.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~(())~~~~~~~~~~

Ashila leaned back against the tree, breathing heavily and brushing her bangs from her face and flipping her braid over her shoulder. She watched Varric examining his bolts that had been protruding from the dead templars, debating if they were usable. A loud squishing sound was heard. Ashila looked to her left, her face contorting into one of revulsion as Cassandra dislodged her sword from the dead mans chest.

"That is revolting." she stated loudly, surprising her companions. Ashila never spoke more than soft octave, so the regular volume of her alto soft voice was a new sound as opposed to her cries on the battlefield. Cassandra gave her a 'What are you even talking about, you mad elf?' look.

Varric was the first to recover. Chuckling, he ripped a bolt from a mans eye socket, tossing it away as it broken with a hairline fracture.

"Death is not supposed to be a pretty thing, Glow. I thought you knew this being a Rogue!"

Ashila gave the dwarf a deadpanned look.

"There a nicer ways to cut up a body, Varric." she sighed.

"Never the less, there is more than one way's to skin a cat!"

The entire conversation could be perceived as probably barbaric, and possibly insane. Ashila knew that people would not understand the precision it took to get so close, intimate even, with a target and take their life while fitting to them. It was a dance that only other rogues could understand.

And it was the only time Ashila did not strip or stumble over anything.

"While we do not have the poise our leader has, we can only strive to match her in what barbaric ways we can, I'm afraid." Solas said, his voice rich with laughter as he poked fun at the younger elf.

Ashila turned away to empty a dead warriors pockets, muttering softly, but hearing the light chuckle on the wind coming from the elder elf made her turn, giving Solas a mock glare to which he shook his head, his smile small and light.

Solas walked past and Ashila let her eyes follow his back a moment longer before standing.

"Let's leave them for the bears." she said to the others, "Dennets land should not be much farther."

They walked an hour longer into the forest before coming upon a large meadow area Over the hills, the tips of chimneys could be seen, black smoke billowing from their openings.

Ashila turned to her companions, a small grin on her face to get the scouts in to set up camp, when she saw movement off to her left behind Solas. Cassandra and Varric had walked past, unknowing to her change in attitude as they scouted ahead for signs of trouble.

A pack of black wolves, wild and with eerie yellow-green eyes that were boring into hers, stilling her heart and causing her face to drop in shock.

Solas watched the young elf's expression drop like a stone into a pond. He turned swiftly, slightly raising his staff in preparation for an attack.

When he saw the wolves, his eyes narrowed.

These animals had been possessed, that much could be determined by their fiendish eyes. But dealing with wolves should be a simple matter, especially for one with Ashila's competency. Never the less, her emotions had been let loose from her careful guard, her fear was palpable to the senses.

He breathed sharply out his pointed nose, eyes boring into the ones of the Alpha.

The Alpha's chest puffed up, trying to match it's will to Solas'. Moments later, however, it's ears were cast downward and he turned, sulking off with his pack into the forest. Solas turned back to Ashila, only to see her walls had been reconstructed, her face passive and unrevealing of the emotions that had been playing on her face moments ago.

She met his eyes. Her peculiar eyes did their best to appear indifferent to the wolves, but he could see the veiled turmoil. Before he could make a comment, she turned quickly, white hair floating softly in her wake as she jogged ahead, waving her hand behind for him to follow.

Solas frowned. When there was time he would speak to her on the subject. It was the second chip in her carefully built demeanor that he was able to peek through to see the elf. He was curious of her puzzle.

Ashila, rushing ahead, took note of the state of Dennet's land, looking for anything to take her mind of the sickly yellow eyes.

The farm was still filled with vegetables and wheat, all ready for harvest for winter. But there was no one around to start the harvest. The animals were wandering about out of their pens with no one to watch over them, and what people were there had enough on their plate already! They ran about, flailing and squabbling much like the chickens they chased. They looked tired and worn and in obvious need of some TLC.

Ashila sighed. "Good thing we came." Cassandra looked back to her and nodded.

"We should see what we can do for the Horse Master. Perhaps after we have helped him, he will in turn help us."

Ashila nodded at Cassandra's words and started forward, the other three following close behind.

Dennet had been cautious to say the least when Ashila and her crew appeared on his door step. Dennet, as all Fereldens were, towered over her like a giant, even had a few good inches on Cassandra and Solas! He was not as large as most were, having a leaner build, and his skin was dark from labor in the sun and from it's natural tone, but his beard was as bushy and wild as the best.

He had them stand before him (much like a father would line up his children to scare them into telling what they did). Dennet eyed each person in turn, eyes lingering on Ashila's eyes and hair for only a moment, never letting his surprise (if he was even) come to the surface.

"So, you're the Inquisition, eh?" He stated gruffly, leaning against the back of his cupboard. Ashila could not tell if the man considered them a trouble, or a grace, and the indifference he exuded was so offsetting it was making Ashila's fingers twitch.

"Hear you're trying to bring order back. It's high time someone did. Didn't expect it to be one of you elves though." Ashila let out the breath she had been instinctively holding while the air in the room lightened considerably.

"With something as far reaching as the Breach is, Ser, it is up to all of us who live on this earth to do something." Ashila responded politely and inclined her head towards the Horse Master. "I am Ashila."

Dennet nodded back. "Name's Dennet. I served Arl Eamon for thirty years as Horse Master. I hear your Inquisition is looking for mounts."

Ashila nodded, hoping that she could do as Cullen hoped and bag more than just some mounts for their cause.

"Ay, Ser, we are in need of some fine you help us."

Dennet shrugged. "Not at the moment."

Ashila blinked, her brain processing his answer. He had heard good things about their cause, he approved of them as people, and he yet he refused?

Could it have been because she was an elf? Ashila blinked as the thought smacked her. Dennet did not seem like the type to discriminate, but if he was, it was an outrageous thing to hold against the Inquisition because she happened to be the one to meet with him!

"May I ask why?" she asked, her voice increasing only slightly as a sign of her irritation. Solas must have noticed, for he shifted at her side, the end of his staff nudging her heel.

"Well I simply can't send a hundred of the finest horses in Ferelden down the road like you'd send a letter. Every bandet between here and Haven would be on them like flies on crap." Dennet's beard twitched as he considered a moment.

"You can have 'em once I know they won't end up as a cold winters breakfast."

Ashila stared back at Dennet, refusing to look away and falter under his judgement. She mulled his offer over: they needed the mounts, and it would mean equivalent exchange if they could do something for him to win his trust for his help. Plus, this could be the chance to get him to hop on with the Inquisition.

"What do we need to do?" Ashila asked calmly, her eyes bright with need to prove her commitment to the task.

Dennet's eyes lit up, pleased.

"Those damn bastards that are hold up at the river-"

"Already taken care of." Ashila said smugly.

Dennet merely raised his thick brows at her response before continuing.

"There is also the matter of being able to spot future attacks. Those rogue Templars we were able to fend off this day, but next time? If we had scouting tower to spot any coming attacks we could be better prepared, as could the Crossroads."

Ashila nodded. Though the Inquisition had little resources, they had enough to ensure proper watch towers could be built, that would only take a fortnight at least.

"Agreed. Anything else?"

"There is the matter of the wolves. I'm sure you have seen them."

Ashila felt her stomach do an unpleasant somersault that left her feeling nauseous.

It just had to be that.

Ooooo what is going to happen in the wolf cave, I wonder (I don't really). It'll be a (hopefully) good one-on-one with Ashila and Solace (do I see embers of interest beginning?!)

Stay tuned for next Saturday!


End file.
